Ashes to Ashes: The Curse of the Goblin King
by MyraValhallah
Summary: Five years after she beat the Goblin King Sarah Williams learns a terrible truth- she is bound to the Labyrinth due to a terrible curse. Sarah is sent back in time to the days before Jareth's reign began to try and break the curse- can she succeed and win his heart, or will she succumb to the curse just as every King and every Champion has before her?
1. Prologue: Aftermath

**_Hello everyone,_**

 ** _Like so many of you, I was left reeling by the tragic loss of David Bowie. The news of his passing has made me reconsider what I was going to do with this story, initially I was just going to post it as a revised version of my fic "Bitter Sweet and Strange," but now it only seems appropriate to publish it as a new story. A new start. "Bitter Sweet and Strange," will remain online, at least for a while but I haven't ruled out taking it down as this story gets going.  
Thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed the original version of this story, and I hope that you will enjoy this version.  
This story will be long, novel length and contains some crossover. I will aim for weekly updates, but life being what it is I can't promise anything.  
I do not own Labyrinth, only a copy of the DVD and an e-copy of the book stored on a memory stick. I only own the plot and all but one of the OCs herein, the other belongs to my very dear friend tichtich2._**

* * *

 ** _Prologue: Aftermath_**

(27th June 1986)

The Labyrinth was oddly still as the white barn owl flew over it towards the castle at its heart. Perhaps it was responding to its current Lord's mood. The owl, who was truly the Goblin King, transformed into his more typical, humanoid shape, as he flew in through the window of the throne room. The glamour cast upon him by Sarah's wish- a bizarrely glittery image for a heterosexual male, and that was before one factored in the makeup- had dissipated the second he returned to his normal shape. The King, once again fully himself, proceeded to flop in a boneless slouch in his round and comfortable throne.

Following Sarah's victory, Jareth had escorted her home, in keeping with his duty to see every runner safely out of the Underground. He had lingered outside her bedchamber- in his owl form- only long enough to watch her call upon the friends that she had made during her time in the Labyrinth. The way she had of turning his subjects to her side was proof that she would make them a fine Queen when her time came.

Beautiful, brave, innocent, cruel eyed, little Sarah had- at fifteen summers, so young that she was considered a child within the society she came from- solved the labyrinth faster than any of the countless Champions before her. Jareth drew off his gloves and ran his fingers through his blonde hair, trying in vain to dispel her image from his mind's eye. Sarah was always going to win; he had known that she would from the moment the damn book had come into her possession- the first moment he became aware of her existence. He had hoped though, given the girl's youth, that she would be the one to break the curse which had plagued his paternal line for too many generations- Sarah had, after all, exceeded each and every expectation he had had of her, so why not this one too?

But no. It seemed that the cruel dance of the curse would continue, at least one more time. King Jareth, nineteenth of his line to be born under the curse, would not see his precious Sarah again; well not until six years from now when the curse would bring them together, one last time.

"Are you giving up so easily, brother?"

Jareth glanced up at the woman who had just entered the room, scowling. "What else can I do, sister? You know the terms of the curse as well as I do, you know that I may not go to her."

"Then why not try to avert the curse?" his sister demanded. "Adopt an heir- the girl's brother perhaps? I know you are fond of the boy."

"Enough Caelenore," Jareth snapped. "The terms are absolute- you know that, I am powerless to do anything else."

"I know," Caelenore returned, and Jareth could hear just how close his little sister was to weeping. "I just wish I could save you from this fate- it's not fair."

Jareth sighed. He rose and approached her as she lost the battle with her tears. He drew her into a hug and stroked her blonde hair- despite being a woman, and many years his junior Caelenore was almost as tall as him, a perk of having a tall father. "I know, Caelie, but that is the way life is. I would have you do something for me, though."

Caelenore nodded into his shoulder. "Name it."

"Take care of my precious Sarah for me- guide her, help her as your father helped mother in her time of need- if you must, help her find a husband."

"I would rather end the curse," Caelenore remarked. "But if it comes to it, I shall do as you ask."

"You are a good girl, Caelie," Jareth told her, ruffling her blonde hair. "The Fireys chose their Queen well."

Caelenore stiffened. "Y-you know about that?"

"I have a group of the beggars living in the labyrinth, remember." Jareth said with a smirk. "What kind of monarch would I be if I did not pay attention to the denizens of my kingdom, and to whom they offer allegiance? I will not tell a soul, I swear it."

"As I swear to look after Sarah when the time comes."

"Thank you, Caelie." The Goblin King pressed a kiss to his younger sister's brow. "Now, I fully intend to drown my sorrows before I prepare for what is to come- won't you join me?"

A troubled look passed over Caelenore's face at this reminder of her brother's fate, but the moment passed and the younger monarch soon schooled her features into a crooked grin. "A chance to diminish your private cellar? I knew there was a reason why you were my favourite brother, lead the way."

~v~

* * *

 ** _This story is dedicated to the memory of our very own Goblin King. Rest in Peace David, a real Star Man you truly blew our minds._**

 ** _Next Time:/span Sarah Williams gets a rude awakening._**

 ** _Until next time, blast your favourite Bowie songs and if you feel so inclined, please leave a contribution in the little box._**


	2. 1: Oh Distinctly I remember

**_Hello dear readers,_**

 ** _Really I'm blown away by the response this story has received already. Those of you who have read "Bitter Sweet and Strange" will recognize most of what is in this chapter; it contains a lot of content from the previous incarnation. It is also, at present, the longest chapter I have written in quite some time._**

 ** _Chapter title comes from my favourite poem: "The Raven", and the chapter contains reference to "The Hobbit"._**

 ** _Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, follow and/or favourite this story, and a special thanks to_** ** _Emonster94, ElsaTheSnowQueen2, Gotta Dance 88, POTO125, tichtich2, R4m Of Th3 For3st, Johanne (guest), and Guest, for their lovely reviews._**

 ** _Johanne: Thank you for your contribution :). I'm really glad that you like both versions, though I will say that Ashes to Ashes will have more detail than Bitter Sweet has. Oh don't worry, I promise you that THIS story will be finished. Yes Sarah has learned many things from her first time in the Underground- as for Jareth's world view, I'm saying nothing._**

 ** _Guest: Thank you, you don't need to thank me, really. I hope you stick around my dear._**

* * *

 _ **Chapter One: Oh, Distinctly I Remember**_

It was hardly a night to be on the road. The rain beat down in torrents and the sky was lit by intermittent flashes of lightning, and yet the little red Volvo sped on down the road. The small car was full to capacity and of the five young women riding in the vehicle; three were drunk, singing loud and raucous renditions of the latest pop songs; one was the designated driver, obviously sober; and the fifth had fallen asleep, all five were heedless of the danger speeding towards them.

Brakes squealed as wheels tried to find purchase on the rain slicked tarmac. The driver cursed violently and the sleeping woman's eyes snapped open, jarred from sleep, but still groggy. Unbeknownst to the five women, a pair of sharp yellow-brown eyes had been watching the little red vehicle. The eyes widened as the danger the car was in became apparent. The owner of those eyes swore silently, an oath which had not been heard by human ears in centuries. If she acted there was a chance that the ancient laws imposed in the days following the great exodus would be broken, but if she didn't act then she would be condemning innocents to death, crushed by the dented grey pick-up truck heading right for them.

"Gods forgive me for this," the watcher whispered as she slipped seamlessly between her avian form and her more common one, with a glance at the American brunette in the back seat. She twisted her wrist.

 _Crunch!_

The next morning a team of emergency services personnel would break into a totalled Volvo. They would find the car empty, apart from four faux-leather handbags and a pair of neon pink stiletto heels.

* * *

"I am never drinking again." Sarah vowed as she clutched her pounding head.

Her hangover was awful. Why had she agreed to that last round of shots? Sarah had been drinking since she was eighteen, after moving to the UK on a student visa, but last night had been heavy, even by her standards.

"I am given to believe that everyone says things like that, Milady," a voice remarked, far too brightly. "Especially after a night of heavy imbibing,"

' _Milady?_ ' Sarah's eyes snapped open to the dimly lit room and she quickly found the speaker- a young woman in a black dress with a mess of thick strawberry blonde curls tamed into what would have been a neat ponytail stood in the doorway.

"Where am I?" Sarah asked, and then clutched at her head in reaction to a particularly painful throb.

"There is a hangover remedy on the bedside table, Lady Champion," the woman told her. "Her Majesty said you would need it."

' _Lady Champion?_ ' Sarah thought, wondering just who this woman believed her to be. Aloud she asked. "Who's _Her Majesty_?"

Somehow she doubted it was Elizabeth II.

"Take the remedy, Lady Champion," the woman advised. "And then I shall take you to Her Majesty, she will answer all of your questions."

"Why are you calling me that?" Sarah asked, eyeing the pale pink liquid in the cut glass tumbler which sat on the bedside table- it looked more like a cure for indigestion than a hangover.

"What? Lady Champion?" the woman asked.

"Yeah," Sarah nodded. "I'm not a lady, and what am I supposed to be champion of?"

"Take the remedy Lady Sarah," said the woman. "My mistress will explain everything."

Sarah wasn't sure that drinking the pink stuff was a good idea, but she wasn't going to get any answers until she did. She took the cup in one hand and took a precautionary sniff. She winced.

"You need to drink it Lady," the woman told her. "Not inhale it- it smells worse than it tastes."

Sarah repressed the urge to swear at the woman. While she had not promised to drink the stuff, her hangover was not going to go away on its own for a while. Pinching her nose to block the horrid smell, Sarah threw the hangover remedy down her throat.

The effect was instantaneous. All trace of the hangover was gone almost before Sarah had swallowed the last drop of the remedy. She smiled and moved to the edge of the bed.

"Better Lady Sarah?" The woman asked with a wry smile.

"Much," Sarah nodded. "Thank you..."

"Rozalyn, Milady," the woman supplied. "Now, once you are ready, I am to take you to the morning room for breakfast."

Half an hour, one hot shower and a change of clothes later, Rozalyn who revealed herself to be the housekeeper led Sarah down stairs. After the miraculous hangover cure Sarah was somewhat disappointed to discover that she wasn't in some fairy tale queen's castle, but a rather ordinary London townhouse, decorated in a neutral sort of way which indicated that it likely wasn't used very often. Rozalyn led Sarah to a polished wooden door and ushered her inside.

The morning room, decorated in that same neutral style as the rest of the house, was empty except for a table set for five people and two tall wooden bookcases packed with books. While she waited for Her Majesty to put in an appearance, Sarah explored the shelves. She was astonished to find a first edition copy of the complete works of Shakespeare which someone had scribbled in the margins of.

"I hope you won't think less of me for defiling my books Sarah," a voice for behind drawled. "Especially one as old as that."

Sarah turned sharply, clutching the book to her breast. The voice belonged to a tall willowy woman whose blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun. She had yellowish-brown eyes and looked about ten years her senior. The woman was dressed similarly to Sarah, in button down shirt and tailored black jeans- but where Sarah's shirt was green, the stranger wore a burnt orange colour. Sarah took a step backwards; something about this woman set her nerves on edge- the stranger reminded her of… something that, whatever it was, it was best forgotten.

"Forgive me for startling you," the woman said, moving to sit at the head of the breakfast table. "Have a seat Sarah, Rozalyn tells me that your friends are all still sleeping."

Sarah didn't move. "You're _Her Majesty_ then?"

The blonde inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I am she. Caelenore; Queen of the Fireys, and High Princess of the Underground; at your service, Lady Champion."

' _Fireys?'_ Sarah frowned. _'Underground?'_ She stiffened as the other woman produced a transparent ball, literally from nowhere, and began to roll it across her long fingers. "Wh-what's that?"

"A crystal," Caelenore, informed her, as if laughing at some private joke. "Nothing more, but if you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams. Want it?"

Before Sarah had the chance to begin formulating a response to this cryptic speech, Caelenore tossed the ball to her. Instinctively Sarah found herself reaching up to catch the see-through projectile, and as her fingers closed around the smooth, polished glass, something shifted in her mind. As if someone had thrown a switch inside her brain, Sarah Williams found herself facing a female version of the Goblin King.

"You have no power over me!" she snarled, stumbling back yet further, until her back hit the bookshelf.

Caelenore rolled her eyes. "Oh please, that only works once and you have had your turn."

"Who are you?" Sarah demanded. "Did the Goblin King send you to mess with me?"

"My dear Sarah, I just _told_ you who I am, and as for the Goblin King; I doubt that he even knows that I know who you are, yet."

"Then, what do you want with me?"

Caelenore's answer surprised her. "I want my brother back, Lady Champion, _please, if that's all right_."

"What are you talking about?" Sarah frowned. "I don't have your brother."

"No, but you did beat him and win your own back."

"Your brother is the Goblin King?" Sarah supposed it made sense, given the resemblance she bore to the bastard who kidnapped Toby five years earlier.

"Only for another year," the blonde returned. "After that, you take over, until your son is old enough to assume the throne."

"What?"

"Have a seat Sarah," Caelenore gestured to the place opposite her own. "I have a story to share, and it would be best if you were seated while I tell it to you. I should tell you that I am in no hurry my dear, Jareth is not the only one who can reorder time, we shall not be disturbed until my tale is told."

Against her better judgement, Sarah moved to take the indicated chair. "Alright, Your Majesty, I'm listening."

"Before we begin," the Goblin King's sister said. "Allow me to slip into something a little more… me."

So saying she flicked her wrist and her appearance changed before Sarah's eyes. She looked like the woman she had been when Sarah had first seen her, albeit a slightly less human version; with pointed ears, eyes set in exotically slanted sockets and upswept eyebrows. Her hair remained down and unruly but now appeared to have unevenly dip-dyed ginger tips; it somehow gave the impression of her hair being on fire.

"That's much better." Caelenore smiled. "Now we can begin."

"You didn't use a crystal," Sarah blurted, stupidly.

"Crystals are a trope of ruling the Goblins," the blonde explained with a smirk which was the image of her bastard of a brother's. "A parlour trick for the distraction of the runner, for the most part magic is used in its raw form, even by the Goblin monarch."

"Oh," said Sarah, not knowing what else to say.

"Let us begin at the beginning though," Caelenore waved her hand over the empty table and tea and toast appeared on the table. "Help yourself, Sarah. I swear on my honour as a queen of the Underground that this fare is perfectly safe, no hallucinogens I guarantee."

"Y-you know about that?" Sarah asked in mortification.

"Sarah dear, everybody knows about that." Caelenore nodded. "Every second of a wishers run is recorded in the Great Annals. Even before the curse was cast."

Sarah leaned forward in her seat and began to fix herself some tea, just to have something to do with her hands. "What is this curse then?"

Caelenore cleared her throat and adopted a teacher's manner. "Back in the days of my grandparents, when my people left the Above to escape persecution from yours, the goblins were ruled over by the Great Goblin, a nasty bugger as I am told, but following his death at the hands of a band of Dwarves and a Wizard, the goblins left their mountain home and settled in the land which became the Goblin Kingdom and eventually fell under Faerie rule. At that time Grandfather appointed one of his generals, by name of Jareth, to rule over them. Jareth I brought his young son, incidentally the second of his name, with him as his heir..."

"What does this have to do with a curse?" Sarah demanded, cutting the Faerie woman off.

"I am getting to that," Caelenore told her, waspishly, irked at the interruption. "I would ask that you save any questions for the end."

Sarah nodded.

"As you might expect, the son grew up and eventually took his father's place," Caelenore continued. "Acting as his father had, taking away the unwanted human children and giving them to childless families who would appreciate them as they deserved to be; though first offering the fool who wished the child away to win them back through solving the Labyrinth. Jareth II took a wife and all was well for a time; until the day that a young woman was wished away.

"This woman, Cora by name, was wished away by her lover after telling him that she was pregnant. The lover it seemed, had a wife already, and wished Cora away to avoid any uncomfortable questions. When her time came, Cora traded her child for a life in the Goblin Kingdom. The baby grew up oblivious to his origins and the mother became the Queen's Attendant..."

Sarah had a sinking feeling that she knew what was coming. "Please don't tell me that the Queen caught the maid and the King in bed together."

Caelenore merely smiled. "How often has jealousy been the root of a curse, even in the nursery tales of this world?"

Sarah sighed. She couldn't deny the truth in that. Sleeping Beauty was cursed because a fairy was sore that she didn't get invited to her Christening. Snow White was poisoned because of her stepmother's jealousy.

"We Fae are not governed by human rationale," Caelenore continued. "So our actions cannot be truly judged by your kind. The Queen was livid, murderous in fact. She tore the beating heart from her husband's chest and crushed it in her fist. Then she froze the woman who had betrayed her and smeared her husband's blood over her."

Sarah felt sick. She didn't want to hear the rest of this. Shockingly, Caelenore took pity on her.

"I shan't sicken you with all of the details. To cut a long story short, the Queen abdicated with immediate effect and named Cora her successor. Nine months later Cora birthed a son, the very image of his father, she named him Jareth and from there the cycle began."

"Cycle?" Sarah asked, chewing her bottom lip.

"Every Goblin King since Jareth III has only ever been bested once Sarah," the blonde announced gravely. "Each time by a virgin maiden who learned the tale from a slender blood red volume. By the start maiden's twenty second year of life she is pregnant with the son of the Goblin King- the next Jareth. She reigns as dowager Goblin Queen until her son is old enough to walk the Labyrinth and assume his throne and the cycle continues."

Sarah, who had only celebrated her twentieth birthday three days earlier, gulped. "By 'her twenty second year', you mean by the time she's twenty one right?"

It was far easier to ask her questions if she posed them in an impersonal way.

Caelenore nodded. "Indeed."

Sarah shivered. She recalled Hoggle's warning from five years earlier. " _Take this Labyrinth, even if you makes it to the centre, you'll never get out again_." She looked up at the Faerie. "Why are you telling me this now? I still have a year left."

"I would have thought it obvious," Caelenore returned. "I want you try to break the curse. Free my brother and yourself, and of course your son would you not prefer that he has his own destiny? His own name?"

"What makes you think I can do this?" Sarah demanded. "Surely Goblin Queens have tried in the past?"

Caelenore's next words startled Sarah. "The Goblin Queens of the past have never been able to try; the curse enthrals them from the point of conception…" She paused. "Well, with the exception of my mother. Prior to my mother, no Goblin Queen has ever conceived another child, thus the Queen in waiting has never had advanced warning of the curse, until now."

"I don't understand,"

The yellow brown eyes rose to lock with Sarah's green ones. "My mother's marriage to my father saved her life. She would have faded like her predecessors when my brother took his throne. She reigns today as High Queen Consort. I believe that this means the curse is weakened, that you can break the chain. Sarah, Lady Champion, I am begging you, one sister to another, give me the chance to save my brother's life."

Sarah felt trapped, more closed in than she had ever felt before, even in the Crystal Ballroom that Jareth had trapped her in. She needed space to breathe; space to think and process what she had just learned. She leapt to her feet.

"Excuse me," she whispered, rising and ran from the room.

~v~

* * *

 _ **Next time:**_ _ **Sarah has a surprise reunion**_

 _ **Until then, why not leave a contribution in the little box?**_


	3. 2: One True Course

_**Hi everyone,**_

 _ **I've decided to post this chapter early again, but please don't expect early chapters in future- my focus will have to shift off fanfiction for the next month and a bit because real life is about to get very busy. My dissertation is due in the first week of march and I have to focus on that I'm afraid but I will do my best to maintain regular updates.**_

 ** _In the mean time- thank you to everyone who has followed and or favourited since my last update._**

 ** _Special thanks as ever to my lovely reviewers: windsongspringheart, POTO125, crazy and random child, SarahLouiseDodge, tichtich2 and guest._**

 ** _Guest: Thank you, hope you enjoy this new chapter._**

 ** _Disclaimer: see the Prologue_**

 ** _This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend tichtich2, and I hope she can wait one more chapter for her OC to make her first actual appearance._**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Two: One True Course**_

Somehow Sarah managed to escape the house of the Goblin King's sister. She ran blindly from the morning room, down a hall and through one set of doors, and then another and emerged into a large back garden. The garden was beautiful, a slice of Faerie in the middle of modern day London. Immaculate lawns, broken only by a small pond and a large fairy ring, stretched from the back door. The plants which edged the lawns were in full bloom, wild and beautiful despite the chill of the October morning. Sarah rubbed her arms against the cold, regretting that she had not taken a coat from the pegs by the back door. As beautiful as the garden was though, it only served as a reminder to Sarah that she had a decision to make.

Five years ago Sarah had learned some very important life lessons during an eleven hour stint in a glitter soaked fantasy world. The morning after this trip she had woken up with no memory of the experience and continued in much the same way as she lived her life from the day Toby entered her life. Her refusal to grow up had effectively alienated her from her family; and had been the catalyst for her moving to a completely different continent after graduating High School. Twenty year old Sarah Williams, a much wiser woman than she had been when she woke up that morning, sat in the beautiful garden outside of a house belonging to the Queen of the Fireys, wracked with self-loathing. Her restored memories gave her new perspective on her life to date- and on the future she was going to have to give up for the Goblins.

One way or another Sarah Williams would become Goblin Queen. Caelenore had no reason to lie to her about that; even if she could actually lie, which given that she was Fae, was highly unlikely. Sarah knew enough folklore to know that Fae didn't lie; twist the truth yes; omit things, definitely; but not lie. The question was, whether Sarah could put aside her anger at the current Goblin King and try to win him over. If she had to become Goblin Queen and raise the next Goblin King she would far sooner have his father by her side than become a single parent.

' _And it's not like he's unattractive,_ ' Sarah's inner voice chimed in.

It was true, as she recalled, the Goblin King was pure sex appeal, even when she'd cowered before him in fear, she had been attracted to him.

' _Of course you were,_ ' the inner voice agreed. ' _What with those pants of his._ '

Sarah clamped down on that thought. And the more than pleasant mental images that it came with.

Sarah gasped, flinching violently as something fell around her shoulders.

"A thousand pardons my Lady. It was not my intention to cause thee alarm," A familiar voice piped up from behind her. "I saw you shiver and sought to warm thee."

"Sir Didymus?" Sarah gasped, turning to face the little fox knight, sitting atop his faithful steed, Ambrosius; they had not changed a bit. As it turned out, the thing on her shoulders was a fur coat which she dimly recalled having seen hung behind the back door. She moved to embrace the little knight. "It's so good to see you again, noble sir."

"As it is you, Fair Maiden," Didymus returned. "Queen Caelenore summoned me to aid thee in thy plight, whatever it might be."

"I'll be sure to thank her then," Sarah smiled. "But where are Hoggle and Ludo?"

"Regrettably my noble brother is indisposed at present, my Lady." The knight told her. "He is needed by his wife."

' _Wife?_ ' Sarah blinked, and despite her longing to ask about the rock caller's wife, she said. "And Hoggle...?"

"Sir Hoggle's duties to the king rarely permit him any respite these days, my Lady." Didymus reported. "His Majesty feels he must put his affairs in order before the curse claims him as it has his forefathers."

And there it was. Sarah had not forgotten about the choice before her, of course she hadn't, but Didymus' arrival had been a blessed distraction; now though, the conversation had reached the matter at hand.

"And that's the reason you're here," she told him.

Sir Didymus blinked. "My Lady?"

"Cael... ah, Queen Caelenore," she amended seeing the disapproving look on the little knight's face at her show of familiarity with his King's sister. "… told me about the curse. It's why you're here."

"What do you mean My Lady?" Didymus asked.

"I mean, that as a former runner, Champion or not, I shouldn't be able to remember the Underground, not until next year at least when the curse drags me back to the Labyrinth. Queen Caelenore found me and returned my memories of the Underground and gave me a choice. Either I go back in time and get king Jareth- the current one I mean- to fall in love with me within a year, or I end up like all the other Goblin Queens before me."

"Then, and forgive me my Lady if I speak out of turn," Didymus put in. "I fail to see why you struggle to make thy choice."

Sarah stared at him, blankly. "What?"

"Sarah," he began, surprising her with his use of her name, as he dismounted Ambrosius who then proceeded with an attempt to sniff every inch of the garden. Sir Didymus sat beside her. "Wouldst thou not agree that not even His Majesty deserves to die in such a way as is his fate should you not attempt this?"

Sarah nodded, no matter what her feelings for Jareth may be, she wouldn't wish a death curse on him. "Yeah."

"And would thou not wish to retain thy freedom?" The diminutive knight asked, placing his paw on her knee. "You will make a fine queen to the Goblins my Lady, I could see this from the moment you led my brother, Sir Hoggle and myself to his majesty's castle to reclaim thy brother. Although whichever way you choose I should stand by you as thy protector until my very death..."

"Thank you, Sir Didymus,"

"My Lady?"

Sarah smiled at her fox-like friend. "Jareth doesn't deserve to die. None of the Goblin Kings before him deserved the fate they got, nor did the women who became Queens because of the curse. If there's a chance I can break the curse, I'd be stupid not to take it. I'll miss you Didymus, all of you. Even if I fail and I end up as just another link in the curse, you three will always be my best friends, but for now it's goodbye."

Sarah leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the old knight's nose before rising and heading back to the house.

* * *

Moments after Sarah had fled the room, Rozalyn entered with a folded piece of parchment in hand. "This just arrived for you, Majesty."

Caelenore took it and nodded her thanks. "Go check on our guests. Is it normal for mortals to sleep this long?"

The Housekeeper shrugged. "I wouldn't know, it was my mother who was mortal not I."

Caelenore rolled her eyes. "Off with you,"

"Yes Your Majesty," Rozalyn returned with a curtsey and left the room.

Alone again, the Firey Queen turned her attention to the letter, and her eyes widened at the sight of the familiar seal. "Five years and not a word," she mused shaking her head. "What does she want _now?_ "

She split the black wax seal and unfolded the page.

 _Caelie,_

 _I know what you are planning to do with regards to Jareth's present_ predicament _, and as such, would like to offer my assistance with regard to sending the Lady Sarah back in time. Knowing you, oh impetuous cousin, you would attempt the spell alone and drain yourself to the point of illness. If you agree to my help then simply say the word- I would rather not lose_ two _cousins; leaving me alone with Charles would just be cruel of you._

 _-S_

"I know you are listening," said Caelie, aloud. "So tell your Mistress that I would be honoured to accept her help. Also, that she need not fear that I would leave her alone with Charles."

"Who's Charles?"

Caelenore looked over to the door where she found Sarah standing, watching her. "My mother's eldest son, another reason I believe the curse is weakened."

Sarah looked puzzled.

"Never before my mother, had a Goblin Queen born a child before the curse claimed them." She explained. "Charles is mortal, for the most part- son of my mother's first, short lived, marriage to a friend from her childhood."

Sarah blinked. "Oh. So who were you just talking to?"

"A shadow demon,"

"What?"

"My cousin's subjects."

"There's a kingdom of shadow demons?" Sarah asked, sounding more surprised than the Firey Queen would have thought she'd be.

"Of course," the Faerie queen returned. "But back to the matter at hand, am I to assume you've made your decision?"

Sarah stared at her. "You mean you don't know?"

Caelenore arched an eyebrow. "Sarah dear, I may have many talents, but mind reading is not one of them." She shuddered. "Gods, can you imagine what it must be to be able to hear every thought which passes through a person's mind, ugh?"

Sarah bit her lip as a laugh threatened to escape her at the blonde queen's display. When she trusted herself to speak again Sarah said. "I'll do it."

"Thank you Sarah." Caelenore beamed at her

Sarah nodded. "Since I'm going to be Goblin Queen anyway, I'd prefer not to die when my son gets old enough to take over."

"Very wise, and don't worry- Jareth isn't as bad as the Goblin King you faced."

Sarah blinked. "What?"

"To cut a long story short, the Goblin King you faced was simply the persona placed upon him by your tie to the book; it's the way of the curse. And the book isn't supposed to paint a particularly complimentary picture of its Goblin King antagonist."

"Oh, makes sense, I guess."

It is entirely possible that an awkward silence would have descended on the scene at that moment if not for the return of Rozalyn.

"The other mortals are still sleeping Majesty, should I waken them…?" she broke off at the sight of Sarah. "Oh, excuse me Lady Champion."

"Uh, hi," said Sarah.

"Let them sleep," Caelenore told her housekeeper. "It will be easier to transport them to their homes that way."

Rozalyn's face fell as she heard the hidden meaning behind her Mistress' words. "You're leaving?"

"I am," Caelenore nodded. "And before you say anything, Lord Fabien of the Seven Falls is arriving this evening so you will not be without magic for long."

"Thank you Majesty."

"As you were then," Caelenore turned back to Sarah, as her housekeeper curtsied and left the room. "Rozalyn is a changeling, and like all of her kind she suffers from an innate… addiction to magic. Although she has never shown any desire to relocate to the Underground."

Sarah's eyes widened, her face pale. "Will that happen to me? The addiction I mean?"

"No Sarah. When you return to the Underground you will become full blood Fae. I am sorry to say that the change is painful, but necessary. I cannot send you back as far as you need to go while you are human. It would kill you."

"No pressure then," Sarah quipped, though it fell flat. "Do we have to go today?"

Caelenore nodded. "I am afraid so, I you are going back to the day before Jareth's coronation and for that we only have a twenty four hour window which puts your departure date as two days from now."

"So soon?"

"You will need tomorrow to recover from the change." Caelenore told her. "I am sorry that I cannot give you more time."

She watched Sarah steel herself with grim satisfaction- she was stealing Sarah's last year of humanity from her and the girl was taking the whole situation with the grace of the queen she would become.

"Ok," she said, shoulders squared. "If I have a chance to break this curse before it breaks me. We may as well start now."

~V~

* * *

 ** _Next time: Sarah goes back to the Underground and Jareth puts in an appearance_**

 ** _Until then... please leave a contribution in the little box_**


	4. 3: Down in the Underground

_**Hi guys,**_

 _ **Thanks to everyone who has followed and/or favourited since my last update, which I got finished much faster than I anticipated.**_

 _ **Special thanks to LovelyAmberLight, Honoria Granger, Tichtich2, ScarletLovesRhett, medieval midnight, guest, VioletzDreamz, pgoodrichboggs, Anonymous... for their lovely reviews**_

 _ **Guest: Thank you, here you are, enjoy :)**_

 _ **Anonymous: Thank you, I hope you stick around and enjoy what I have in store**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Three: Down in the Underground_**

A short time later, Caelenore led Sarah to the back door once more. The Firey Queen opened the door and they stepped out into the beautiful garden; or at least, out of the house. The two women emerged into a large courtyard in a way which reminded Sarah of the way she had first entered the Underground. Although the last time entering the Underground didn't make her head hurt, as it did now.

"Where are we?" she asked her hostess.

"This, Lady Sarah, is my kingdom." Caelenore told her. "Welcome to Fyrehaven."

Sarah tried to smile, but the muscles in her face didn't seem to want to move, and the pain was spreading yet further with every passing second. Her entire head felt like lead and the pain was already moving down into her neck. A pathetic little noise of pain escaped Sarah's lips.

She felt someone move to support her under her shoulders. Caelenore, she realised. And then the pain became too much for her and she was lost.

* * *

Jareth sat on his bedroom window ledge gazing unseeingly out at the labyrinth. He had come into his chamber for some now long forgotten reason and had been overcome with a curious, hypnotic sensation. The last time he had felt this way he had been a boy- his mother had begun to teach him about the various weapons at the Goblin monarch's disposal and made him sample a dream peach.

He felt the same odd sense of separation from himself as he, and everyone who bit into a one of those hallucinogenic fruits experienced before they were sucked into their dream. On a whim, Jareth produced a crystal and began to roll it automatically across his fingers. Years ago, he had begun performing this trick at times when he needed to distract himself, but alas the motions had long since become committed to muscle memory, so his conscious mind had nothing to do with the procedure anymore.

Jareth let out a sudden growl of frustration and hurled the crystal into the wall above the door. Gods he needed distraction- Caelie was in the Above again. She had been spending a lot of time in the mortal world lately, Jareth couldn't help but wonder whether his little sister had found a beau. Either way, Jareth, could not visit her as he couldn't venture Above now unless he was summoned, and then only to confront the wisher.

"Hedgewart!" he roared. "Hedgewart, attend me!"

"Hoggle," came the usual correction followed by the dutifully timid. "Yes, Yer Majesty?"

Jareth had appointed the dwarf the position of manservant, instead of following through with his threat to make him Prince of the Land of Stench- the former gardener was just so fun to annoy.

"Yes," the Jareth nodded, injecting a note of boredom into his voice. "Go down to the wine cellar and fetch me the strongest bottle you can find. There should be a bottle of hundred year old fortified fireberry red left."

There wasn't. Jareth knew, he just wanted the little scab to squirm. Bating Hoggle had become his favourite pass-time since his defeat at Sarah's hand.

* * *

Sarah awoke to the sound of voices and found herself lying on a plush leather sofa. She ached right down to every bone in her body and groaned as she sat up. She found herself in a plain, functional sort of room with shelves of books lining the walls.

"Ah, excellent," came Caelenore's voice. "You're awake."

"Am I?" Sarah asked, wincing. She wouldn't say that the way she was feeling at the moment was in any way _excellent._

"How are you feeling?"

"Awful," she admitted, and then noticing the fact that Caelenore was dressed differently to how she had been before, in a simple dark yellow day dress. "How long was I out?"

"Almost twenty four hours,"

"We were beginning to believe you might not wake in time," came a drawling voice from behind Caelenore.

The Firey Queen moved aside to reveal a two women, both clearly Fae, though by the looks of things, they weren't a conventional pair. One was a tall, regal black haired woman in a black gown, the kind which wouldn't look that far out of place on the red carpet of a movie premiere. The other was slightly shorter than the first with blue black hair, pulled back in a single, thick plait; she wore slightly travel worn clothes, brown leather trousers, tucked into knee length boots and deep blue, long sleeved tunic.

"Sarah Williams, allow me to introduce you to Shivabanshee, Queen of Shadows." Caelenore gestured to the black haired woman. "And an old friend of ours; Lady Krystral of the Dark Peak, Freelance Knight of the Underground. Shiva and Krystral will be helping me to send you back in time."

"It's going to take _three_ of you?" Sarah asked, staring at the blonde in astonishment. The thought made her head hurt. "How far back are you sending me?"

"Jareth, that is the present Goblin King, took the throne two hundred and one years ago, tomorrow." The knight informed her. "And Caelie intends to send you back to just prior to his coronation."

"And yes," Queen Shiva put in. "Reordering time is very taxing magic. To send a person back more than a century can drain a person dry, we shan't bore you with the theorem but suffice it to say that, the more Fae lend their magic to the spell, the safer it is for all concerned."

Sarah swallowed and asked her hostess. "Are you sure I have to go back that far?"

Caelenore nodded. "The earlier you begin, the longer you will have to work out how to break the curse."

"Is there anything I need to know before I do this?" she asked.

"You cannot tell Jareth who you are," Caelenore replied. "That you are his Champion that is. To do so at any point before your run through the Labyrinth will immediately break the spell and you will be returned to the point at which you were sent back in time."

"Anything else?" Sarah asked, feeling that there must be more than just having to keep who she was from Jareth."

"You only have one chance at this, and our window of opportunity to do this will close at sunset." The Firey Queen looked like she had something more to say.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

"There is something that I have always regretted." Caelenore said. "The fact that I am Firey Queen is something of a secret; I never asked for the crown and it took me a long time to come to terms with it, I would ask your support in the earliest days of my rule Sarah."

Sarah couldn't say she understood why the blonde kept her rule a secret. "Of course _._ "

Caelenore looked ready to cry and Sarah found herself slightly surprised that the blonde made no move to hug her.

Sarah nodded, schooling her features into a mask of confidence to hide her mounting trepidation and pain. If she didn't go now there was a chance she might still back out. "Well, what are we waiting for? No time like the present, eh?"

Caelenore beamed at her.

* * *

It was another two hours before everything was ready for Sarah to go back in time. Caelenore had insisted on a very large lunch, even surprising her with three very large cheese and tomato pizzas, stating that they would both need their strength for the magic ahead of them.

"And besides," she grinned. "This will be your last chance for a pizza for a long while, you'd be mad to pass it up."

After lunch, the preparations began. Caelenore made Sarah sit down while she, Shiva and Krystral cleared Caelenore's study of furniture and then the two queens set about drawing arcane symbols on the floor in white chalk.

"Alright, Sarah, you need to stand in the middle of the circle," Caelenore told her, not looking up from her drawing. "Kyrstral, there's a ball of silver twine on the shelf by the door, could you please construct a five-point star around Sarah with it?"

The knight did as she was bid and Sarah was soon surrounded by a silver star and a circle of intricate chalk symbols.

"What are the symbols for?" She asked.

"To help channel our magic," the Queen of Shadows told her. "You are going back a long way Sarah, and while it is possible to send you back without them, they will provide a safety net and give you a soft landing."

Sarah blinked.

"There is one thing before you go back," the blonde queen continued, looking Sarah up and down. "No denim where you're going Sarah."

So saying she flicked her wrist in Sarah's direction and changed her clothes from jeans and shirt into a green woollen dress which brushed the wooden floor and hooded cloak. Sarah lifted the skirt of her dress to look at the oddly practical shoes made of soft brown leather.

"Cinderella, eat your heart out." She quipped.

Caelenore snorted. "Travelling clothes Sarah, no balls for you just yet m'dear. Now, are you ready?"

Sarah swallowed. She nodded.

"Splendid, now you're going to want to close your eyes." Caelenore said, rubbing her hands together as if to rid them of chalk residue. "Ready my friends?"

"Aye." Kyrstral nodded, kicking her boots off and placing them beside those of Shiva and Caelenore, who had removed their footwear before they began drawing the symbols.

Shiva nodded, and the three older Fae formed a triangle around the edge of the circle.

"Then, after three," Caelenore said, raising her hands. "One… two… three,"

Sarah screwed her eyes shut and the trio of Fae began to chant in a lyrical, lilting language which Sarah couldn't even begin to understand.

The world exploded.

* * *

Miles away in the castle beyond the Goblin City, the Goblin King almost dropped the wished away he was trying to comfort as a sharp pain shot through his body. Gritting his teeth, Jareth handed the toddler over to the nearest trustworthy goblin and he strode from the room, unwilling to show his subjects any sign of weakness.

The Labyrinth was screaming in his mind, sharing the same pain as its lord. The Goblin King barely made it into the next room- incidentally the relativity room which- before the pain became too much. He dropped to his knees, curling into an agonized ball. What was going on? He still had a year before the curse claimed him!

An image flashed through his mind. A vision of beauty, unattainable yet ever present in his dreams.

Sarah.

Something had happened to Sarah, and her connection to himself and the Labyrinth was the cause of this agony.

Jareth's lips formed her name, and those two syllables were the last sound he made before everything went black.

* * *

The Goblin Queen sat in her throne, bouncing the baby on her knee. Little Alice was the very last child that would be wished away to her; tomorrow her time as Queen would end, Jareth would run the Labyrinth and take his place as Goblin King. She only hoped that her son would not meet his Champion too soon.

Queen Christine would miss the Castle beyond the Goblin City. Despite its importance to the Underground, the Goblin Kingdom was rather secluded, a far cry from the new chapter she was about to embark upon. True she had been the High King's wife for years, but her own upcoming coronation to the High Queen's throne was…

A massive surge of power on the outer edge of the Labyrinth made Christine gasp. She had never known anything like that in all her time in the Underground. She rose and handed the baby to one of the goblins before transporting herself to the edge of the huge maze.

Lying on the crest of the hill from which all runners began their journey through the labyrinth was a dark haired young woman in green. She lay on her side, limbs spread-eagled around her and Christine was somewhat alarmed to notice that the girl did not appear to be breathing. The Goblin Queen crouched beside the girl and searched for a pulse.

Finding it easily, Christine breathed a sigh of relief. The woman was alive, though in some urgent need of help- but where in all the worlds did she come from?

"Miro." She called.

The small goblin whose task it was to deliver messages to her husband appeared and bowed to her. "Majesty?"

"I have need of a healer..." The goblin vanished before Christine finished speaking. She swore. Her husband had always been protective of her to the point of irrationality.

"My love, the goblin said you were ill."

The Goblin Queen rolled her eyes- he was forever jumping to the worst conclusions where she was concerned. "No dear, the message asked for a healer, but it was not for me." Here she gestured to the girl. "Rather for her."

Christine had known her husband since she was little more than a child and did not need to look at him to know that his amber eyes were even now narrowed in suspicion.

"A spy?"

"Here in the Goblin Kingdom?" She snorted. "Erik, really, who in their right mind would send a spy to the Goblin Kingdom?"

"The day before Jareth takes his place as Goblin King, Erik can think of any number of enemies..."

"Breath Erik," Christine said, reaching out and taking his hand. "And remember that we are not in Paris any longer."

Even years after the end of that tragic first chapter of their story, Erik still slipped into a third person speech pattern on occasion.

"Forgive me my dear," the High King said, raising their joined hands to kiss the back of hers.

"Naturally, but I must insist on your sending a healer for the poor child, spy or no, we cannot know for certain until she wakes." Christine stated reasonably. "I will house her here until we can interrogate her and we take things from there."

Erik nodded his approval. "I shall send your healer, Angel mine. Be safe."

He vanished. Christine, Queen of the Goblins shook her head.

"With you around I have no option." She announced to the spot from which he had just disappeared with an indulgent smile. She returned her attention to the girl and with a wave of her hand transported her to one of the guest chambers. Christine rose and looked out over the Labyrinth; it was time to visit the runner.

~v~

* * *

 _ **Next Time: Sarah's unexpected arrival two hundred years back in time causes Jareth an unexpected hindrance.**_

 _ **Until then... please leave a contribution in the little box**_


	5. 4: Beyond the Point of No Return

_**Hey guys,**_

 _ **This chapter is a little shorter than I was intending- but at the moment I'm managing to keep my updates fairly regular, hopefully I can maintain that for the whole story.**_ _ **Thank you to everyone who has followed and/or favourited this story since the last chapter.**_

 _ **Special thanks to Lover of crossovers, pgoodrichboggs, medieval midnight tichtich2, Honoria Granger, VioletzDreamz, Guest(1), windsongspringheart, MischG30, guest(2) and MaidMarian17 for their lovely reviews**_

 _ **Guest (1): Thank you very much. More Jareth in this chapter.**_

 _ **Guest(2): Thank you, hope what I have in store lives up to your expectations.**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Four: Beyond the Point of No Return_**

When Christine's goblin messenger arrived Erik had been sharing dinner with his sons. Jareth and Charles might not be of his blood as Caelenore was, but he had raised both with Christine and the High King loved both as dearly as if he had sired them. When he arrived back at his casltle, Erik was delighted to see that his daughter had come to the table- she had been quiet lately, withdrawn; and he worried about her, but watching her devour her meal as if food were going out of fashion made him smile.

"How is mother?" Charles asked him as he entered the dining hall.

"She is well," Erik returned, Charles might have been the son of Christine's little _Viscount_ but the lad barely resembled the insipid sailor boy, beyond sharing his sire's questionable taste in moustaches. "The healer was required for another."

That caught Jareth's attention. "Another? Is the wished away taken ill?"

"No Jareth," he shook his head. "Although I would have a word with you," then with a pointed look at his younger stepson, Erik added. "In private."

A wide eyed Jareth nodded and rose to follow the High King out of the dining hall. Erik took a moment to consider the soon-to-be Goblin King; in keeping with the curse, Jareth was the very image of his sire, except for his golden hair and blue eyes both of which carried down from his mother. All three of Christine's children had inherited her golden hair, although only Caelenore had bucked the trend of blue eyes and inherited Erik's own golden brown.

The boys were respectively the sons of his mortal rival for Christine's affections and, Erik's best friend's but both had grown up knowing only Erik as their father; and Erik loved each as dearly as if they were truly his own.

* * *

Jareth was more than a little surprised to find himself in the High King's study rather than his stepfather's laboratory or music room, whatever Erik wished to discuss with him must be serious, and unpleasant- for the last time Jareth had been in this room had been the day that Caelie's bed had been discovered empty when she was little more than a babe. Where his little sister had gone during her absence was still a mystery nearly a whole century later, and thankfully, at least in Jareth's opinion, she didn't remember anything. But he would be lying if he said that her whereabouts during that awful time didn't still trouble him.

Whatever this was about, Jareth doubted that he going to like it. And then his stepfather removed his mask. Jareth was at once transported back to the day that his baby sister had been found missing, the last time he had seen the scarred and burned mess that was all that remained of the High King's face.

"Papa," he began. "I…"

"There has been an incident outside the Labyrinth," Erik said, cutting him off. "It is why your mother is not yet returned."

"What happened?"

"A young woman was found unconscious outside the gates," said Erik. "She was injured, barely breathing, and Eri… ah, _I_ believe her appearance to be connected with the stirrings in the south."

Jareth blinked, worrying at the inside of his cheek with his teeth. He had a horrible feeling that he knew where this was going. "I run the Labyrinth tomorrow, papa…"

"You _were_ to," came the reply which confirmed Jareth's fears. "Erik is sorry Jareth, but until we can be certain that the woman's appearance is not the doing of our enemies in the south, but I believe it would be better to postpone your ascension to the goblin throne."

Jareth shook his head. "Father I really must protest!"

Yellow eyes narrowed in the ruin of the High King's face. "Protest all you wish boy, but remember the vow I made to your father. Erik pledged to protect you, and your mother, until you become Goblin King- you are my son in all of the ways which matter, and I would keep you safe. If I allow you to run the gauntlet tomorrow I risk allowing you to come to harm, should the south have anything to do with today's events."

Jareth clenched his fists, and his teeth. His stepfather's words were true- the arrival of this woman did coincide with the latest spate of attacks from the southern territories. The Goblin Kingdom held much more strategic importance to the High Court than the previous targets. But gods if this didn't rankle.

Jareth was _ready_ to take his throne. The Goblins were his birth right; not just some obligation handed down through the curse on his bloodline.

"Very well," he nodded. "But I will not delay long. I am ready to be king, papa."

With that, not waiting to be dismissed, Jareth turned on his heel and stalked out of the study.

* * *

Sarah Williams' first conscious thought was that death was nothing like what she might have imagined it to be like. She was cocooned in something warm and cosy but was not yet ready to open her eyes to see just what. Unfortunately for her, fate had other ideas.

"I know you are awake, young lady." A woman's voice remarked in gently accented English. "I have raised three children and know well the difference between real sleep and false."

"Wasn't pretending," Sarah returned, groggily- her voice was hoarse with sleep. "M'cosy."

The woman laughed at that. "If you say so, Mademoiselle, but I should prefer to conduct a conversation with a face and not the back of a head."

Sarah obliged the woman. She pushed herself into a sitting position and turned to face the woman, ignoring the pain shooting through her whole body in protest at her movement. The woman was stunning; no longer young but still in the prime of her life. She was a petite beauty with golden hair and blue eyes and a casual air of royalty lingered about her even with the casual attire she wore. Who she was was obvious to Sarah after having met Jareth and Caelenore.

"Much better." The High Queen nodded, and a smile very much like her daughter's curved her lips. "Perhaps Mademoiselle you would like to tell me how it is that you are saturated in not only the magic of my kingdom but of that of my adolescent daughter as well."

' _Adolescent?_ ' Sarah blinked. Had Caelenore sent her too far back in time?

"Caelenore sent me from the future to save your Jareth ma'am, I'm Sarah, his Champion." she blurted before she could stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. Sarah clamped her hands over her treacherous lips. "I mean…"

"You mean nothing," the older woman returned, evenly. "Not with the dose of truth serum I wet your lips with as you came awake."

Sarah's eyes widened, realising that she had indeed come awake to the sensation of something tickling her lips. "T-truth serum?"

"A useful tool, _Cherie_ ," Jareth's mother nodded. "Much less... messy than my husband's favoured methods of interrogation."

The little shudder that followed this have Sarah pause. What kind of man was the High King of the Underground?

"You say my daughter sent you back in time to save my son," the Queen said, dragging Sarah back to the present. "May I ask how she intends you do that?"

Sarah told her. She detailed everything from the moment she woke up in Caelenore's London townhouse to her first, embarrassing thoughts on waking here in this room. She finished by enquiring as to whether she was in the Goblin Kingdom.

"You are," the Queen nodded. "I am Christine, current Queen of the Goblins. Your arrival has caused some far reaching ripples in this realm Lady Champion."

"Ripples?" Sarah asked, nervously.

"You arrive at a time of turmoil," said the older woman. "For some time now there has been… friction with our neighbours in the south. Doubtless my husband will think that your arrival has something to do with that. As such I would estimate that my dear Erik will already have told Jareth that he may not run the Labyrinth tomorrow."

Sarah blinked. "I'm sorry, Y-your Majesty, if I'd have known…"

"Then you would be in exactly the same boat as I, and every Champion before me," Said Queen Christine, evenly. "Well, mostly. For my part, I do not know how you might break the curse, but I hope you will my dear."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Sarah smiled.

Christine waved her thanks away. "What kind of mother would I be if I did not hope for the best for my son? I'm only sorry that you will be in so much pain for most of your allotted year."

Sarah stared at Christine, wide eyed. "Pardon me?"

"Your transition to Fae will not be as easy as Caelenore might have intimated." The High Queen told her. "The change is linked to the curse, and so you will likely be in pain for the next nine months, although I assume that as you will not have the added burden of pregnancy as I and our predecessors did, you may have an easier time of it than we did."

Sarah swallowed, and it hurt. "Caelenore… she didn't say anything about that?"

"That," said the Queen, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Would be because she doesn't know. Tell me though, if you had known, would you still have taken this path?"

Sarah thought for a moment. Would she? "I don't know," she replied, honestly. "But I hope that I would."

The Queen smiled. "Good." She might have said more, but something unknown to Sarah caught her attention. Christine rose. "I must leave you to rest now Sarah dear. We shall talk more when you wake again. Now, I must see to an urgent matter."

Suddenly, completely drained of energy, Sarah flopped back against her pillows and, as her eyelids drooped she watched Jareth's mother sweep from the room, and then Sarah was lost to sleep.

~v~

* * *

 _ **Next time: Sarah is relocated to the High Court and she and Jareth meet for the first time.**_

 _ **Until then, please leave a contribution in the little box.**_


	6. 5: First Sight

**_Hi everyone,_**

 ** _I would like to start with a public service announcement in response to a comment that my dear friend tichtich2 made about the last chapter. I'd like to start by clarifying that yes I have incorporated Phantom of the Opera into this story, but the incarnation of Erik and Christine I'm using are based on the original novel Le Fantome de l'Opera by Gaston Leroux, which is why I have Erik addressing himself in the third person every so often. You don't have to have any knowledge of Phantom of the Opera to understand the story._**

 ** _And now, as I have just submitted first complete draft of my dissertation I thought I'd celebrate by posting the latest chapter._**

 ** _Thanks as ever to everyone who has followed and/or favourited this story since my last update._**

 ** _Special thanks to eljama2014, Guest (1), Princess of the Fae, VioletzDreamz, Guest(2), tichtich2 and Vesper Lestrange for their lovely reviews._**

 ** _Guest (1): Thank you, I'm sorry I haven't up until now, provided you with quite enough of Jareth for your personal tastes, but I will be much more prominent from here on out. I hope you DO like where I take the backstory. Jareth's eyes, much like the late, great Mr Bowie's, are blue, but one of the pupils is dilated due to a childhood injury._**

 ** _Guest(2): Thank you, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long m'dear :)_**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Five: First Sight_**

 _By the gods it was hot. The air around her was rippling. The ground beneath her feet was parched and cracked, and the sparse patches of plant life were parched and in places, smouldering. It occurred to her, dimly, that under other circumstances she would be frightened of this place, but all she felt was concern. What had happened here?_

 _"_ _Come little princess," the voice was a familiar echo on the wind. "It's further than you think, and my time grows short."_

 _And there was the fear._

 _"_ _Who's there?"_

 _The only response was a dry, rasping chuckle._

 _Who are you?" she yelled. "Answer me!"_

 _"_ _Come home, little one." A castle rose up on the distant horizon. "Come, claim your destiny…"_

 _Shaking her head she turned her head, tried to back away, but…_

Woosh!

 _A wall of flame sprang up around her, hemming her in, and leaving her with only one path- towards the castle on the distant horizon._

Caelie, High Princess of the Underground woke with a scream. She sat bolt upright, hands fisted in her bedclothes, as she attempted to slow her racing heart. She swallowed, thickly, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat, and screwed her eyes tight shut to quell the tears which were already spotting the sheets.

How had the dream found her? Every night since the new moon her sleep had been haunted by that wasteland, by that whisper. Hell, Caelie had taken a full goblet of dreamless sleep potion in order to keep the dream… no _nightmare_ away. If anything, the nightmare had been more vivid than ever because of it. Caelie slipped from her bed and padded through to the water closet to bathe her face.

She froze though, catching sight of her reflection in the glass on her toilet table. Her face was grey with deep purple shadows beneath her eyes and her blonde hair clung to her sweat bathed cheeks and neck, but her eyes gave her pause. There was a look in her eyes which spoke of understanding.

 _I know something you don't know_ , they seemed to say.

"I'd know too if you just told me." Caelie told her reflection, sourly.

Her reflection's eyes glowed in response.

 _Ah,_ that glow said, _but that would be too easy._

Of course it would. Caelie scowled- tearing her gaze away from the mirror. Gods, what was happening to her? Was she going mad? She wouldn't be surprised if she was. Madness seemed to run in the family.

Mama had been a grown woman before she had been disabused of the notion of heavenly vocal coaches. Papa was… well, suffering from the after effects of third degree iron burns, and prolonged torture at the hands of a now long extinct enemy, so he had an excuse. And, as for the boys…

Something moved in the corner of her eye. Caelie whipped around and found herself staring at a furry orange thing which stood almost as tall as she did. Caelie and the creature stood frozen for some moments, simply staring at one another.

Then, the creature bowed, gave her a crooked smile and asked. "When ya comin' home little princess?"

Caelie screamed.

* * *

Sarah was growing restless, being confined to bed was beginning to drive her mad. Yes she was in constant pain- Queen Christine had been right on the money in that respect- but she was well aware of the time limit she had, and her year to win Jareth's heart was already under way and she had yet to even lay eyes on him.

Three days passed before Sarah was allowed to leave her bed. She saw little of anyone aside from Healer Gatsby; a middle aged man with thin greying hair and a bulbous nose which reminded Sarah painfully of Hoggle; and Lylabeth, her newly appointed mother hen… _ah_ , companion. Both, she knew had come to her from the High King, on his wife's behest, but Sarah was nervous of meeting this man.

When she woke up on that third morning, to find the Goblin Queen and not her personal maid waiting with her breakfast, Sarah knew something was going to happen.

"You are to be coming to Avalon with me." Christine told her, after the perfunctory 'good morning'. "My husband has finally relented, and agreed that it is time to allow my son to take his place as Goblin King."

"Will I still be confined to bed when I'm there?" Sarah asked, then blushed as she realised how rude she sounded. "I'm sorry…"

Christine waved the apology away with a wave of her hand. "No ma Cherie, it is quite understandable. You are restless. You have my assurance that you will not be confined to bed- Healer Gatsby will testify that your recovery will only be hindered by continued bed rest."

"Thank you," Sarah beamed; she had _always_ hated being made to stay in bed, even as a child.

"It's no matter," the blonde assured her with a laugh. "Now, hurry up and eat, we shall be leaving after breakfast, and Avalon is a long way off by carriage."

"Carriage?" Sarah echoed, surprised. "I thought Fae could travel by magic?"

"Oh, we can," the queen nodded. "But you are in no state to travel in such a manner- your magic has yet to manifest Sarah, and as you are my best chance at saving my son, I will not allow you to do anything which may put you in danger, and besides," she added, conspiratorially. "This way you and I can get to know one another better."

* * *

Sarah slept through most of the journey to Avalon. She drifted off about an hour in and didn't stir until Queen Christine shook her awake.

"Ah, sleeping beauty wakes at last," the older woman teased her gently. "We are about to get our first glimpse of Avalon, I thought you might like to see the capital of the civilised realm before we arrive."

Sarah sat up gingerly and stared out of the window as the carriage came to a stop as they reached the crest of the hill. As the city in which Jareth had been raised came into view, Sarah gasped.

The city was cradled in a valley, surrounded on all sides by dense woodland. The midday sun painted the city a muted gold. The city itself was built around a magnificent palace, the likes of which any Disney Princess would sell her soul to call home. The rest of the city spread around the palace putting Sarah in mind of pictures she'd seen of spiral galaxies.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"I'm glad you like it, Cherie," Christine smiled. "I never get tired of this view, and I've had ample opportunity to try."

"Why would you want to try?" Sarah asked. "It's gorgeous."

Christine laughed. "Ah Cherie, you tell my husband that and he will absolutely love you, he was the draughtsman behind most of the architecture."

"The High King is an architect?"

"My Erik is a man of many talents." The Goblin Queen smiled. "He spent a lot of time Aboveground many years ago."

And then, Christine tapped the carriage roof, and ordered the driver to continue.

It was nearly an hour later that the carriage drew to a halt in the courtyard of the High King's palace. Sarah had spent most of that hour trying not to gawk like a tourist as the carriage rolled through the winding streets.

The carriage baring the colours of the Goblin Kingdom quickly drew the attention of the people of Avalon and soon a crowd had gathered around the vehicle and Queen Christine hung out of the window, waving to her husband's subjects. The carriage only left the crowds behind when they bowled through the great gates which towered overhead, and Sarah got her first glimpse of the palace up close. Or she would have done if not for the rather distracting sight of two blonde men, armed with swords on the lawn away to the left.

"Really," Christine had her arms folded now and a look of disapproval on her face. "One stays away from home three days and suddenly ground rules which have been in place since their childhood no longer matter."

The queen tapped the roof of the carriage, and they came to a stop. Christine turned to Sarah with a grin. "Are you ready to meet my sons, Cherie?"

"Now?"

"Mais oui," the blonde woman nodded. "There is, after all, no time like the present."

With that the Goblin Queen stepped out of the carriage, ignoring the footman who came around to help her out of it.

"This," she said in the voice of a disapproving mother. "Does not look like the sparring paddock boys."

Sarah, who had by this time been helped out of the carriage, and was leaning on the crutches that Healer Gatsby had given her, was rewarded with the sight of the nemesis of her teenaged years, and his older brother both freezing, children who had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Sorry Maman," the two brothers chorused. "It shan't happen again."

"It had better not," said the diminutive woman with her hands on her hips. "What a first impression to make on our new guest."

And thus Sarah Williams was brought to the attention of Queen Christine's two sons.

"Ah," said that familiar voice. "So this is the mysterious maiden who forced the postponement of my coronation."

Sarah bristled, at the perceived slight. The sound of Jareth's voice took her back to her first encounter with the Underground, back to the angry fifteen year old brat who had not come to understand that life isn't fair; but when she saw the man who would be Goblin King, her ire melted away at the stark reminder of her present situation.

Looking up into the face of _her_ Goblin King, Sarah was struck by how different he looked to the villain of her teenaged years. He looked so much younger, she had known from the start that he would be, but she hadn't expected him to look so close to her own age. There was no trace of makeup on his face but his eyebrows still slanted up towards his temples. There was also not a trace of glitter in sight. His hair was still that wild frost blonde mane, even though he had attempted to tame in the low ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Sarah had to force herself to maintain eye contact with the man she had come here to rescue from the curse on his line, but it was so hard at that moment. She would have to be blind not to notice his current state of undress. Stripped to the waist, Jareth wore only a pair of breeches and Sarah was having one hell of a job stopping herself from ogling his lightly muscled torso and strong arms.

"My name is Sarah," she told him, with a smile. "And you must be Jareth."

"Indeed." He returned with a nod. "Despite everything, I must say it's _enchanting_ to meet you Lady Sarah."

Sarah's smile widened. "The pleasure is all mine."

"Come _on,_ brother!" Charles called, reminding Sarah that they were not alone. "You can flirt with Lady Sarah later. I thought we were going to spar."

Jareth didn't respond to his brother's catcalling, but Sarah saw a flicker of irritation pass over his face.

"Go and play with your brother," She said with a grin, she was tired and wanted a bath to wash off the dirt of the road, and sooth her aching muscles. "I'll still be here in the palace when you're done."

Jareth blinked, surprised by her response but managed to return with that insufferable smirk. "Indeed Lady Sarah, perhaps a favour to help me win the fight?"

"Even if I had a handkerchief to give you Your Highness," she retorted, lips curling as she realised just how much she was enjoying this game they'd started. " _Where_ would you put it?"

Jareth threw back his head and laughed at that. "Touché Milady, but a kiss is just as traditional a favour as a handkerchief."

Sarah noticed Queen Christine raise her hand to her mouth to hide her laughter. She arched one eyebrow and asked. "Isn't that a bit… _forward?_ "

Jareth shrugged, still smirking. "Well, they say fortune favours the bold."

"Ja- _reth,_ " Charles yelled.

Sarah closed the gap between them and, leaning heavily on her crutches, she stretched up on her toes and pressed a kiss to Jareth's cheek. "There you go, Goblin King-to-be, your favour. Now off you go and play with your big brother."

"Charles?" Christine asked her older son, who bore a much stronger resemblance to Christine than either of his siblings. "Are you not going to introduce yourself to Lady Sarah?"

Charles approached Sarah now, and bowed over her hand. " _Enchante_ mademoiselle."

Sarah, who had taken French in High School and had been rather good at it, replied smoothly. "Tout le plaisir est pour moi, monsieur."

"Alright mes fils," Christine said to her sons. "I am sure that Lady Sarah would enjoy the chance to rest and bathe as much as I would, we will leave you to your swordplay."

That said, the Queen offered Sarah her arm to lean on and guided her into the palace.

* * *

Jareth watched his mother lead the young lady away in awe. He was struck by her beauty. The Lady Sarah was a modern day Eira Gwyn with her dark hair, peaches and cream skin and kissable, red lips. He clamped down on that thought as quickly entered his mind. The woman was still recovering from her ordeal, the last thing she needed was his attentions, even if he didn't have a curse hanging over his head.

"Come _on_ ," Charles said, giving him a gentle shove to get his attention. "The Lady is gone now brother. Are we going to spar or no?"

"Yes, brother," Jareth nodded, returning the shove, on brotherly principle. Maybe sparring would help him to get his mind off the beautiful maiden he had just met.

~v~

* * *

 _ **The French which Sarah uses translates as: 'again the pleasure is all mine,' and I offer my thanks to Cassandre Potter for correcting the French**_

 _ **Next time: Sarah meets the rest of Jareth's family and we learn a little family history.**_

 _ **Until then, please leave a contribution in the little box.**_


	7. 6: Gathering Shadows

_**Hi everybody,**_

 ** _I know I said that Sarah would be meeting the rest of Jareth's family in this chapter, but the chapter had other ideas- what I can offer you though is a portion of plot advancement._**

 ** _As ever I would like to thank everyone who has been kind enough to follow and/or favourite this story since my last update._**

 ** _Special thanks to SarahLouiseDodge, medieval midnight, CaSera (formerly Guest 1), VioletzDreamz and hyrulian dream weaver (to whom I would like to appologize for the fact that his penname won't show up in its correct format) for their lovely reviews_**

* * *

 _ **Chapter Six: Gathering Shadows**_

Erik stood at the window of his laboratory- a large front facing chamber- watching as the carriage carrying his wife and the mysterious Lady Sarah drew up in the courtyard. Christine had told him _who_ Lady Sarah was and while the High King truly hoped the girl could save his son and bring about a new chapter for the Goblin Kingdom, Erik feared that her efforts might prove fruitless.

As he stood, unobserved, watching as Jareth was introduced to the only woman who could solve the Labyrinth when he took the throne that weekend, Erik had to admit that they made a handsome couple. He was reminded once again, of the promise that he had made to Jareth's father, centuries before Christine had entered the picture. As long as he lived, Erik would never forget that day; the day that the best friend he had ever had was crowned Goblin King.

 _The coronation ceremony had gone without a hitch, and the celebration ball was in full swing. As usual the High King had not been wanting for dance partners- in those days before his face had been ruined he had truly been a kind of Don Juan- but finally tired of the dance floor, Erik looked about for his dearest friend. He found Jareth leaning heavily on the marble balcony which overlooked the gardens._

" _Rather poor form to miss your own coronation ball, don't you think?" Erik asked, slipping out onto the balcony._

 _Jareth didn't move. "Most newly crowned monarchs are not victim to a curse like mine. Most too don't have to watch their mother fade away into nothing following their coronation."_

 _Erik blinked. "Pardon me?"_

 _Jareth ran his hands through his hair. "Mother is gone Erik. Not five minutes ago." His shoulders slumped. "I knew… I knew she was not long for this world now that I have taken her place but… Gods, Erik she brought me out here, kissed me goodbye, shifted forms and flew out over the Labyrinth… I felt the moment she passed on to the Summer Lands"_

 _Erik was shocked. Virtually the entire Underground knew of the curse on the Goblin Kings, that now that Jareth had taken the throne, his mother Martha, would fade as every queen before her, but he, Erik had assumed that the fade meant some sort of illness. "You mean to say that she simply…"_

" _Faded." Jareth nodded. "Aye, she literally faded from this life."_

 _Erik placed a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "I am so sorry, is there anything I can…"_

" _Do?" Jareth asked, finally turning to face him. Erik was a little frightened of the emptiness in the new Goblin King's dark eyes. "As a matter of fact, I believe there is."_

" _Name it," said Erik, but whatever he had been expecting in answer was a world away from Jareth's response._

" _I want your solemn oath Erik, that when my time comes, as we know it will, that you will protect my Lady Champion, and our son." Jareth told him. "I would prefer my son not to feel as alone as I do now."_

" _I swear it," Erik vowed, placing his hand over his heart. "Upon my honour, I, Erik High King of the Underground do solemnly swear that I will protect your Lady Champion once she is Queen and shall when the time comes extend that protection to your son and heir."_

Of course, all those years ago, Erik had had no idea just what his old friend's Lady Champion would be to him; nor that the son in question would become his own in all of the ways which truly mattered. Looking back on that day, Erik would have to admit- not without some measure of guilt- that he would not change a thing about the events which had led him to his unconventional little family.

"I wish you luck Lady Sarah," Erik told the dark haired girl, as he watched his wife help her into the palace. "Truly I do."

That said, the High King turned away from the window and left his laboratory to welcome his queen home.

* * *

"Try again, Your Highness,"

Caelie scowled down at the polished floor of the gallery as she stooped to pick up the much abused book which had fallen off her head again. The high princess ground her teeth, resolutely ignoring the gaze of the furry orange thing which had been following her around like a second shadow since she had first noticed it in the small hours of the morning.

"I am trying Mistress Daphne," she told her governess, fighting the urge to growl. "But I still fail to see why I must do this?"

Daphne; a petite battle-axe of a woman whose grey iron grey ringlets belied the fact that she was only in her middle years; opened her mouth, ready to launch into the familiar speech about how a lady must appear to float as she moved.

"If I might have a moment of your time Mistress Daphne?"

Caelie's head snapped up at the sound of her mother's voice. "Maman!" she beamed. "I did not know you were coming home today." And then she noticed the dark haired lady who looked to be about the same age as Charles or Jareth, leaning heavily on a pair of crutches at her mother's side. "And this must be the Lady…" she paused for a moment as the lady's name escaped her. " _Sarah_ , was it?"

The dark haired woman met Caelie's gaze with a look of surprise. "That's me." She said in a soft strangely accented voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you Princess Caelenore."

"Caelie," she blurted; she hated her mouthful of a full name; then seeing the look of disapproval on Mistress Daphne's face, straightened and offered her hand. "That is, you may call me Caelie, in private, Lady Sarah."

A strange look passed over Lady Sarah's face for a moment before she took her hand and returned with a smile. "Thank you, Caelie, then you must call me Sarah. I'm sure we'll be good friends"

Maman smiled, and turned to Mistress Daphne. "Now that you've met my daughter, Sarah, I would like you to meet her governess, Mistress Daphne."

"Pleased to meet you," said Lady Sarah to Mistress Daphne, with a smile.

"Likewise," Mistress Daphne nodded there was an edge of impatience in her voice. "Forgive me Your Majesty, but we are in the middle of a lesson."

"Of course," Maman nodded. "Come Sarah, your chambers are this way."

As Maman and the stranger walked away, Caelie frowned, wondering why her mother was escorting the woman herself and not asking a servant to do so. She didn't have chance to wonder for long.

Mistress Daphne clapped her hands. "Come Your Highness, replace the book and try again."

Caelie repressed a groan as her unwanted orange shadow sniggered.

* * *

Sarah was surprised by how different the younger version of Caelenore was to the Firey Queen who had sent her back in time. Caelie, as she had requested Sarah call her, looked younger than Sarah had been when she had run the Labyrinth. Like the fireys that she would one day reign over, Caelie was all limbs, still very much a child, despite having reached her full height.

"How old is Caelie?" Sarah asked, as she and Christine reached a wide landing.

"Ninety seven," the Queen answered. "That's… roughly fourteen by mortal standards. I assume now you understand why I was surprised by my daughter's involvement in your arrival here?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes, but I didn't realise she'd be so young."

"And why would you?" Christine asked, coming to a stop outside a pair of double doors, painted white, like every other set on the landing. "Ah, here we are- your chambers Lady Sarah. After you, Cherie,"

So saying she opened the door and ushered Sarah inside.

The rooms she had been given were lovely. They reminded Sarah a posh hotel her mother had splashed out for on her first night in London. It was elegant, impersonal and decorated in shades of white, gold and brown.

"Your Majesty, Milady," said the familiar voice of Lylabeth from an open doorway off to the left. "Your timing is perfect; I have just finished drawing Lady Sarah's bath."

"Thank you Lylabeth," Christine nodded at the matronly redhead. "I shall leave Her Ladyship in your capable hands. Sarah, I shall see you at dinner?"

"Um, yeah," Sarah nodded, distantly, unnerved at the thought of dining with the royal family. "I mean, of course."

"Splendid," the queen returned. "Enjoy your bath."

And with that, she left the chamber.

* * *

After leaving Sarah to recover from the journey Christine transported herself to the master suite. No sooner had she materialized than she was swept up in her husband's embrace.

"Finally you are here to stay," Erik purred into her hair.

"I am," she nodded, snuggling into his broad, warm, chest. "I know that this has been difficult for you, Maestro, but thank you for your patience."

Erik waved away her thanks. "I have your bath prepared, Angel mine, and I thought that we might sing together before dinner?"

"Ever my Angel of Music," Christine chuckled. "Very well, if you wish,"

"Come then beauty," The High King swept her up in his arms and carried her through to where her bath awaited.

* * *

 _(Many miles to the south of Avalon)_

 _His time was growing short. He had had a good life, despite the iron shards slowly creeping towards his heart. He needed the girl to return before the month was out so he could see his heir on the throne before he passed on._

 _He knew the risk of his endeavour, claiming the sole blood heir of the High King- the monster who had robbed him of his heir, but turnabout was, as the expression went, fair play and as such it was only fitting that he should return the favour. What he hadn't anticipated however, was the girl's tenacity. The compulsion he had cast upon her when she was a mere child_ should _have brought her running to his side a month ago, but thus far the girl was proving as stubborn as her ass of a sire._

 _There was nothing for it, he would have to renew the compulsion, and for that he would have to meet her face to face again. He wasn't short of opportunities to approach the girl; his spies in the High Court told him that the current Goblin Queen would be assuming the duties of High Queen consort after her son took his place on the cursed throne. Two coronations in quick succession though only an idiot would try to approach the High Princess in her father's domain._

" _Finnbar!" he croaked to his manservant._

" _Yes Yeh Majesty?" the firey asked, bowing so low that his head fell off._

 _He rolled his eyes- Finnbar was still young, his body parts would cease to be quite so detachable before too long. "Pick that up, and find me a tailor, I have a ball to attend and am in need of attire fit for a meeting with my heir."_

" _Sure thi… I mean, of course sire."Finnbar bowed again; this time managing to remain in one piece; before clattering out of his bedchamber._

 _The Firey King heaved himself out of bed and into the bath-chair which he had been using since the physician had told him to take to his bed. He had to find a gift for his heir, something suitable for the soon to be Firey Queen but understated enough that it could go unnoticed by her hawk eyed father. He had something in mind, something perfect for the little princess, but it had been buried in the Royal Treasury since the child's last visit to the kingdom which was to be hers by month's end, all he had to do was find it; and that might well be easier said than done._

 _~v~_

* * *

 ** _Next Time: Sarah meets the High King, Christine officially becomes High Queen Consort and some of Erik and Christine's past is revealed._**

 ** _Until then, please leave a contribution in the little box_**


	8. 7: Fate Links Thee to Me

_**Hi everyone, I didn't expect to be posting again so quickly, this chapter seems to be writing itself at the moment. I'll try to keep the momentum going, but I can't promise.**_

 _ **The chapter title comes from the 1867 Opera 'Romeo et Juliette' by Charles Gounrod, which I've never seen or heard, but it is cited in Gaston Leroux's original Le Fantome de l'Opera novel.**_

 _ **Thanks as ever to everyone who has been kind enough to follow and/or favourite this story since my last update and to SarahLouoiseDodge, VioletzDreamz, seapeach, guest, windsongspringheart and CaSera for their lovely reviews.**_

 _ **Guest: Thank you m'dear, I hope you enjoy the rest of the story too :)**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Seven: Fate Links Thee to Me Forever and a Day**_

Sarah swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat while Lylabeth arranged her hair. She'd been feeling better after her bath; though the painkilling potion that Healer Gatsby had sent down for her, knowing that the one that he had given her that morning would have worn off, would have helped. But now that she was almost prepared to go down to dinner she was sick with nerves.

The gown she'd been given was beautiful, made of soft pink satin with full skirts, a square neckline and long, close fitted sleeves. Lylabeth had applied some light makeup, had braided her hair and was now coiling the plaits around her head in a kind of crown.

"There we are milady," the maid nodded, as she secured the last of many hairpins into her hair. "Finished,"

At that moment there came a knock at the door and Lylabeth bustled off to answer it. Sarah stood up gingerly, testing herself; the pain in her limbs was a dull ache, but manageable at the moment. She deliberated taking her crutches, yes the whole royal family bar the High King had seen her using them, but her pride said that taking them might make her appear weak in Jareth's eyes.

"Lady Sarah," Lylabeth had returned. "Your escort has arrived to take you down to dinner."

There was something strange about her maid's smile as she said this and Sarah couldn't help wondering if Queen Christine had sent Jareth to escort her, in an attempt to help her with her task of breaking the curse on him. Deciding to forgo her crutches, Sarah followed her out into the sitting room and her eyes widened at the sight of the man who stood waiting for her.

The man emanated power just standing on the cream hearth rug. He was tall and wire thin with short, black, hair slicked back on his head, covering the pointed tips of his ears. He wore black breeches, tucked into polished black boots, and a black velvet frock coat over a dark gold waistcoat, deep green cravat and crisp white shirt. There was something unnatural about his face but Sarah could not put her finger on what; otherwise his face was unremarkable as far as Fae faces went, with thin lips, a long straight nose and high cheek bones. It was his eyes though that told Sarah who this man was, golden brown irises which she had only seen on one other.

"Please forgive me if I don't curtsey, Your Majesty." She said, sounding much braver than she felt.

The High King laughed. "Indeed. I would not hear of it Lady. Experience tells me that curtseying in your condition is ill-advised."

The King's voice was beautiful. It was rich and melodious and Sarah believed that she could listen to it forever and not tire of it. Much to her surprise the King closed the gap between them and bowed over her hand.

"I must tell you mademoiselle, that it is a pleasure to meet the lady who plans to break the curse on my son's bloodline."

Sarah blushed. "Thank you sire, but it was your daughter's idea."

"Aye," the king nodded. "And I look forward to the day that she becomes the woman who would go to such lengths to preserve our family, but she is a child yet and I would not rush her towards adulthood. Now Cherie, shall we descend to dinner?"

Sarah took the arm that the king offered her and allowed him to escort her from her rooms.

* * *

The dining room that the High King, who insisted that she call him Erik, led her to was far smaller than she was expecting. It was grand and decorated in rich brown and red and furnished with a long, not quite rectangular table. The rest of the family had already arrived and they rose when she and Erik entered and sat when he settled her in a seat, directly opposite Jareth.

The soon to be Goblin King, she noticed, was dressed much as he had been in the dream she'd had after biting the drugged peach, in white and royal blue, but there was no trace of glitter, makeup or blue streaks in his wild blond hair. Beside him, Caelenore also wore pink, though she wore her hair down, and at Sarah's right Charles dressed much like Jareth only in grey and green. At the far end of the table, opposite her husband who sat at the head of the table, Christine wore deep green which matched the High King's cravat.

Dinner was served on covered plates by a trio of young Fae men dressed in emerald and gold livery. But before they could lift the silver covers Erik rose.

"Before we begin," the High King began and raised his glass in Sarah's direction. "I would like to officially welcome, Lady Sarah into our home, and my hopes that she will be happy here for as long as she is with us."

The rest of the family lifted their glasses and inclined them in toast. "Lady Sarah,"

Sarah smiled, hoping that they could not see her embarrassment. "Thank you,"

Dinner was delicious. It began with a starter of beef consommé, a thin French soup; and was followed by succulent pork chops with potatoes, peas and sliced carrots. The time dessert, a rich chocolate mousse was finished, Sarah was full and drowsy. The conversation was light and flowed easily, and despite Sarah's initial anxiety about dining with the royal family, she found herself relaxed and almost forgetting that she was surrounded by Faerie royalty, one of whom being the man who would go on to take Toby from the angry fifteen year old self after a stupid wish.

* * *

Erik was no stranger to sleepless nights. Usually his nights were haunted by the ghosts of the past, and tonight was no exception. The High King lay in his bed, cradling his beloved, who slept peacefully in his arms.

"I envy you Angel-mine," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her golden curls. "Would that I could join you in sleep,"

It was Christine who haunted him that night, images from every chapter of their love story. He saw her as the nervous woman-child whom he had deceived into believing that he was an angel, simply because he recognised the mark of the Goblin Kingdom on her. He saw the horror on her face only three months after their association had begun, when she had torn his mask away from his face and seen the mess which lay beneath for the first time. He saw her in bridal finery, pledging herself to another man, and in a blink of an eye, grow round with her first child.

A year later, Christine had been claimed by the curse and of course Erik had been there to welcome her to the Underground. At that time he had tried to hide the fact that he had been the Opera Ghost from her, but the brilliant girl had seen through him within the first month of her pregnancy with Jareth. Oh how glorious his Christine had been in her anger as she had railed at him, blaming him for the loss of her viscount- who had been lost on a Naval mission and given a hero's death- and her unwanted elevation in status.

"Erik?"

Erik stiffened at the sound of his wife's voice. He had been so lost in his memories that he had not noticed that she had wakened.

"You should be sleeping, Angel," he admonished her gently.

"So should you be," Christine returned sleepily. "But I can practically _hear_ you thinking."

"I should leave you to sleep," he said, though made no move to leave his wife's side.

"No, stay," she snuggled into his chest. "Will you sing to me, Maestro?"

Erik smiled. "Of course,"

The High King pressed a kiss to his Queen's forehead and began to sing a lullaby.

* * *

The chances of him sleeping that night were slim, at best. For all he talked of being ready to take his place as Goblin King, Jareth was worried… frightened really. Since he had learned that he was not of Erik's blood, learned who he was and what was ahead of him, Jareth had lived in silent dread of the day he became king. While he lived in Avalon he was protected from the curse but now, a scant three days before he ran the gauntlet, he no longer felt safe. And that was before Sarah had come into the picture.

It was sod's law, truly, that the lovely Lady Sarah had entered his life now. In another life he would gladly have pursued her; beautiful, fiery, intelligent, she was everything he found attractive in a woman; but what right did he have to offer her anything? If anything should come of a relationship with her, she would lose it all when the curse claimed him.

Jareth produced a crystal; it had been the first thing that maman had shown him how to do when she deemed him ready to begin preparing for his role as Goblin King. The sphere sat, cold and heavy in his bare hand, and he focussed on the weight of it; better that than his future. He began to roll the across his hands. It was hardly a new habit, but it still required his full attention to prevent the crystal from falling and shattering. He could use magic to prevent it falling, but that would not suit his needs at present- what Jareth needed was distraction.

And so it was Jareth, soon to be King of the Goblins, nineteenth of his line to bear the curse was found, sprawled, fully dressed, on his bed the next morning with a crystal clutched loosely in his hand when one of the footmen went up to his bedchamber to wake him in time to prepare for his mother's coronation.

* * *

Avalon's throne room was a cavernous chamber with stone walls adorned with green and gold hangings. Large stained glass windows bathed the room in light. Sarah had been given a seat near the raised marble dais so that she could see the ceremony as well as rest her aching limbs. King Erik had positioned her personally, claiming that he needed something to do while Christine prepared for the ceremony.

The king was an adorable bundle of nerves, and Sarah was reminded of a groom right before his wedding, and it was only the deep green velvet cloak and the vine-like golden crown which betrayed his royalty. He paced before the dais, muttering to himself in the third person. Sarah would be lying if she said that she wasn't concerned by the High King's use of his name as he talked to himself, but she wasn't about to ask for fear of offending Jareth's stepfather. It would, she knew, be better for her, and her mission to break the curse, if she did everything she could to ensure she remained in his good graces.

"Majesty?" a footman poked his head around the throne room door. "Your Majesty?"

"Aye?" the king asked tersely, his head snapping up in the footman's direction.

"Should we open the gates, Sire?" the footman asked. "It is approaching nine."

"Open the gates," Erik nodded. "And send someone up to their Highnesses, Eri… ah, _I_ would have them waiting in the antechamber in five minutes."

"Already done Your Majesty," said the footman. "Although Prince Charles has offered to escort her Goblin Majesty,"

Erik nodded again but as the footman vanished Sarah heard him mutter. "It ought to be Jareth, but very well, Charles is as fit for the duty as his brother. Lady Sarah, I shall take my leave now, I must enter after the crowds have taken their places."

Sarah nodded. "Of course… Your Majesty."

When the king did not correct her on the use of his title, Sarah assumed that she had made the right decision. He gave her a regal nod and vanished on the spot as the great, oaken double doors opened and the audience- yes she supposed that was the right term- began to trickle into the throne room.

* * *

For the second time in her life Christine, former prima donna of the Paris Opera House, and for a short time, Countess de Chagny, was preparing for her coronation. She had retreated to the Queen's suite; a room which she had only used once before- on the night before her wedding to Erik; to prepare. She would have prepared in the suite she shared with Erik, but as he seemed more nervous about today than she was, Christine had retreated to the one place that her husband had vowed never to enter without her permission, so she could prepare without his interference.

The gown- which Erik had prepared for her- was as simple as it was elegant. It was a sheer silk garment made of a pleasant vernal green with accents of gold leaf lace at the waistline, collar cuffs and hem, which hung off her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and held in place with combs set with green jasper.

"Ladies," she smiled at her maids in the mirror as they pinned the heavy, ermine trimmed cloak to the back of her gown. "I believe you have out done yourselves."

"I quite agree, maman,"

Christine looked over to the doorway and found her first born clad in his ceremonial armour, his moustache trimmed and his hair combed until it shone. She was struck by how much like his father he looked. Raoul would be so proud…

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"It's nothing," Christine shook her head, blinking away the tears from her stinging eyes. "I was just thinking about your father, Raoul I mean, if he could see you now…"

Charles shifted uncomfortably. "Maman…"

"I know, I'm sorry,"

When he was young Charles had struggled to come to terms with the fact that he was the son of a viscount while his siblings had both been sired by kings. While Christine knew that he was proud of the fact that his own sire was a good man, who had died a heroes death, reminders of his heritage made him feel guilty for his youthful envy.

Her eldest child cleared his throat and offered his arm. "Your Majesty, may I escort you down to the throne room, the ceremony is ready to begin."

* * *

The coronation ceremony was a remarkably simple affair for all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding it. Once the audience had entered, a fan fair erupted from everywhere and nowhere.

"Announcing the Highnesses," a voice boomed. "Caelenore High Princess of the Underground, and Jareth, Prince of the Goblins,"

Jareth and Caelenore entered, arm in arm: Caelie wore a pale green dress which reminded Sarah of the one which she would play act in before she ran off to England at eighteen, Jareth however, was dressed in the black armour that he had worn when Sarah had first seen him after wishing Toby away. The respective heirs to the High Throne and the Goblin Throne took their places on the dais: Caelenore stood demurely between the two thrones, hands clasped neatly in front of her and Jareth to the right, his hands behind his back. Sarah assumed that Charles would take the vacant spot to the left of them.

A second fan fair rose up and "His Supreme Majesty, Erik High King of the Underground," was announced.

The High King entered. He strode up the path that his daughter and younger stepson had walked, up the middle of the chamber, and was a world away from the bundle of nerves that he had been when Sarah had last seen him. This man was everything one would expect a High King to be, dignified, regal, elegant and powerful. He sat in the throne between Jareth and Caelie and even in his stillness he emanated power.

The fan fair sounded for the third and probably final time and the final members of the royal household were announced.

"Her Majesty Christine, Queen of the Goblins and Prince Charles, Grand Duke of Laudevale,"

Sarah's hunch was proven right, after he had finished escorting his mother, Charles moved to stand at the left side of the two thrones, mirroring Jareth's stance with his hands behind his back. Erik rose and Christine knelt on the top step of the dais.

"Christine," Erik began, and if his voice had been beautiful in private conversation, it was nothing compared to the angel's voice which he spoke with now. "Goblin Queen and High Queen Consort, do you swear to carry out your duty to this kingdom to the best of your ability?"

"I swear," Christine returned, her voice echoing around the throne room.

"Do you swear to rule over your new subjects in fairness, wherever possible tempering judgement with mercy?"

"I swear."

"And do you support your King in all matters of state, with all of the dignity and grace which befits your position?"

"I swear."

"Then rise, Christine High Queen of Avalon, and take your place at our side."

Christine settled herself in the throne between Caelenore and Charles and Erik clapped his hands. A delicate crown of woven silver appeared in his hands. "By the power vested in me as High King of the Underground, I Erik, do hereby crown thee Queen."

He placed the crown on Christine's blonde head and bowed over her hand. Turning back to face his people, Erik helped her to her feet. "People of Avalon, of the Underground, I present to thee thy Queen."

~V~

* * *

 _ **Next time: Sarah takes a chance, Jareth runs the Labyrinth and Caelie receives an anonymous gift.**_

 _ **Until then, please leave a contribution in the little box :)**_


	9. 8: Some Enchanted Evening?

_**Hi everyone,**_

 _ **Goodness me, another update ALREADY. This chapter essentially wrote itself. However, this will probably be the last you'll see of my until the end of the month- real life's going to be REALLY busy for me for the next few weeks, but I'll do my best.**_

 _ **This chapter follows straight on from the end of the last and features a fair amount of J/S interaction.**_

 _ **Thank you to everyone who has been kind enough to follow and/or favourite this story since my last update, and special thanks to SarahlouiseDodge, CynthiaW, Gotta Dance 88 and VioletzDreamz for their lovely reviews.**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Eight: Some Enchanted Evening?_**

 _"_ _People of Avalon, of the Underground, I present to thee thy Queen."_

As her husband finished speaking Christine bobbed a shallow curtsey and the crowds went wild. Once the cheering and applause had died down, Christine smiled. "Thank you," she began. "And now I have an announcement to make. As you all know, my son, Jareth, Prince of the Goblins was to run the Labyrinth _before_ my coronation today, and you may be wondering why the decision was made to postpone his right of passage."

Sarah stiffened. What was Christine doing? She had a terrible feeling that she, Sarah Williams, was about to be formally introduced to the Underground. The former drama student didn't have a problem with being the centre of attention, but some warning might have been nice. Sarah watched as Christine glanced over at Jareth, who nodded, turned and moved towards her.

"Four days ago a young woman was found, lying unconscious, on the edge of the labyrinth; this lady is amongst us today and I would ask that you make her feel welcome." Jareth was before her now, offering a gloved hand to help her up "Ladies and gentlemen of the Underground, I present to you, the Lady Sarah."

"Why is she doing this?" Sarah hissed as Jareth helped her up onto the dais amid the polite applause.

"She has her reasons I suppose," Jareth returned out of the corner of his mouth. "You'll have to ask her, now smile and wave."

 _'_ _Thank you god for making me an actress,'_ Sarah thought pasting a smile onto her face and waving at the crowd. There was a surge in the applause as she did this, and once it died away again she made her smile widen and said. "Thank you for your kind welcome,"

The silence which fell after she said this felt like it was about to become singularly awkward. However, Erik took pity on her before it had a chance to become so.

"Yes, welcome, Lady Sarah," he said, stepping forward, to bow, briefly, over her hand. "And now, unless I am much mistaken, a coronation is cause for a celebration so let us have music and dancing."

So saying, the High King clapped his hands. The most beautiful music that Sarah had ever heard filled the air and the already cavernous throne room seemed to double in size. He turned to his wife and bowed. "My Queen would you do me the honour?"

"But of course My King." Christine curtseyed and accepted the hand he offered and allowed her husband to lead her down from the dais and swept her up in a waltz.

* * *

Meanwhile in the Royal wing of the palace, a firey appeared in Princess Caelenore's bedchamber. The firey, whose name was Socha was disappointed to find the room empty- she had never been outside of Fyrehaven before and had been hoping to see her future queen. She had been forbidden to make herself known to the princess, but that didn't stop the disappointment.

Socha had seen the princess before of course, had looked after her during her one previous visit to Fyrehaven when the king had named her his heir. At the time Socha had been young and had only just begun to understand that not every creature had detachable heads and limbs; the king had told Socha personally that the princess was of his kind, and his kind did not have removable body parts, even as young ones.

 _"_ _Socha,"_ the king's voice echoed in her ear. _"Do as I asked of you and get out, you must not be seen,"_

Socha looked down at the box that the king had sent her to deliver to the princess. She didn't understand why the King didn't want the princess to know this present was from him, but she was just a firey, what did she know?

Socha put the box on the princess' bed and disappeared.

* * *

As if they were newlyweds sharing their first dance, Erik and Christine were alone in their dancing until the first song had come to an end. Then when the next number began, couples began to join the High King and Queen on the floor.

"Is this normal?" Sarah asked Jareth who hadn't left her side since he had led her up onto the Dais. "For a ball I mean?"

Jareth chuckled. "For a ball in maman's honour it is, however impromptu. Though I must admit that you surprise me- I would have thought that a lovely thing like you would have been to your share of balls?"

"Only one before now, but I didn't really enjoy it very much," she told him, trying not to laugh at the fact that she was saying this to the very man who had thrown that ball for her; even if it was a dream induced by a drugged peach. "I was a little older than Caelie is now and the whole thing got a little too… overwhelming."

"Oh?"

Sarah shook her head. "I'm not royalty Jareth, where I'm from we're all essentially peasants."

Jareth stared at her. Trying not to notice Sarah looked out at the dancers, watching as Jareth's two siblings cut in on their parents' dancing. Erik danced with Caelenore and Charles spun his mother off in the opposite direction.

"You, my lady are an enigma," Jareth declared. "You conduct yourself like a Lady of rank but claim not to be nobility."

"Perhaps I'm just a good mimic, Your Highness."

"Is that what this is?" one time enemy asked. "Mimicry?"

"That's for me to know," Sarah told him. Then feeling bold she added. "Besides, if I didn't have my secrets, how would I keep your attention, which I find I rather like?"

He laughed at that. "You are a delightfully forward woman Sarah. I believe I'll miss you when I leave for the Goblin Kingdom. I've half a mind to ask you to come with me."

"You never know, I might just say yes."

Jareth fell silent. Panic began to bubble up in Sarah- had she said the wrong thing? Things had been going so well and she had to open her big fat mouth and make things awkward and…

And then the moment passed. Jareth offered her his hand.

"Dance with me, Sarah,"

Sarah blinked. "Pardon me?"

He shrugged. "You said that your first ball wasn't a pleasant experience for you, perhaps I could make your second more enjoyable. They say that the right dance partner can make all the difference."

' _If only you knew,_ ' Sarah thought, as she took Jareth's hand and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor.

Dancing in the arms of the Goblin King that she had beaten, _would_ beat two hundred years or so from now, for the second time was a completely different experience from the first time. This, she knew, was real; she doubted she could say the same for the last time she had been in this position. Sarah knew precisely who she was and; and now that she was an adult, she could appreciate just how talented a dancer her partner was.

Jareth led her through one more dance before Sarah grew tired. Before Caelenore had brought her back to the Underground, she had been fit, a capable dancer, able to rehearse for hours without tiring. The Fae, she knew, were stronger than humans, but the transition was making her as weak as a proverbial kitten.

"Are you alright?" Jareth asked. "Do you need to stop?"

"Only for a little while," Sarah nodded. "Just a little tired."

Jareth led her to her chair, which remained where it had been before the coronation ceremony and with a flick of his wrist produced a second chair and sat down to join her.

"You don't need to stop dancing on my account," Sarah told him.

"I find I am not ready to leave your company." He returned smoothly, snapping his fingers and producing two wine flutes, summoned from refreshment table which had appeared on the opposite side of the throne room.

Sarah accepted one of the flutes with a smile of thanks and sipped at the sparkling white wine. "I've never tasted wine like this before, what is it?"

"Wine," said Jareth, then chuckled as Sarah turned to stare at him. "Most wines taste more or less the same to me, I'm not a man of discerning palette, my tastes run more to ales and ciders,"

"You surprise me," she told him. "You drank enough wine at dinner last night,"

He shrugged. "I don't _dis_ like wine, as I said; they all taste more or less the same to me. Perhaps I ought to have said that you would be better asking my brother about this wine, it comes from one of _his_ vineyards."

"I'll bare that in mind," Sarah nodded. "So, are you ready to run the labyrinth?"

"Of course I am," he replied, a little too quickly.

Sarah tilted her head, inquisitively. "But…?"

"Sarah," he warned, resolutely looking away from her.

"Are you frightened?" she asked. "I would be if I were in your place."

He turned to her now, his eyes ablaze. "What do you know about my place Milady?" he demanded, his voice an angry hiss. "What do you know about the curse on my head, on my entire fucking bloodline? You, a nobody, lucky enough to fall into the lap of the most prominent family in the realm? You know _nothing!_ "

"You're right," said Sarah, clenching her free hand into a fist in an attempt to reign in her fraying temper. "I don't know anything about your curse, other than the basics that everybody in the Underground know, but that doesn't mean I can't _empathise._ It's not hard to imagine what you must be feeling. If I was in your position I'd be terrified."

Hell, she was, technically speaking, in exactly the same boat as him, but he couldn't know that. Not yet.

"I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, Lady Sarah," Jareth said, stiffly. "I feel a sudden urge to dance some more."

With that, the soon to be Goblin King was on his feet and Sarah was left to watch as he melted into the crowd of dancers in search of a new partner.

~v~

* * *

 ** _Uh..._**

 _ **Next time: Jareth runs the labyrinth**_

 _ **Please leave a contribution in the little box.**_


	10. 9: The Circle of Life

_**Hey everyone, ok, I know I said the last chapter would probably be the last for this month- but this just sort of happened...**_

 _ **I also said that this chapter would feature Jareth's run, but you'll have to settle for just the start. I probably don't need to tell anyone where this chapter title comes from. It's cheesy I know but I think it fits.**_

 _ **I apologize if I offended anyone with Jareth's burst of foul mouthed-ness in the last chapter, I don't intend to offend anyone with my writing, but I felt the use of the F-bomb fit the moment. Over the next couple of chapters Jareth is going to be swearing at least once more**_

 _ **Thank you to everyone who has followed and/or favourited this story since my last update and special thanks to SarahlouiseDodge, hyrulian dream weaver (chapters 7, 8 and 9), seapeach, pgoodrichboggs, clink84, VioletzDreamz, windsongspringheart and Enchanted Peach Dreams for their lovely reviews**_

 _ **Clink84: Thank you, I'm really glad you're liking my story- hope you stick with me on this.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Nine: The Circle of Life**_

 _(Paris, Many years ago)_

"… but what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the princess and had given her special powers."

 _Erik stopped in his tracks. He had just been seeing Christine back from their latest voice lesson when he heard the words in recited in a high pitched, melodramatic tone._

Goblin King? Oh gods, no!

 _This was not good. One of the ballet rats had the dratted book and in, his present condition, Erik, High King of the Underground was in no position to fulfil his promise to Jareth- stranded as he was without his magic._

 _It was then that Erik noticed Christine's reaction. She had frozen, her hand hovering over the handle of the dormitory door._

 _"No," she whispered. "No, please no. They can't have found it."_

 _Christine, his little Christine was the one destined to end Jareth's life? Christine, the light of his life would carry the next Goblin King and fade away to nothing when his best friend's son reached his full physical and magical maturity. It did, he supposed explain why he had been drawn to her in the first place- before he had even heard her sing._

 _"I wish that the goblins would come and take you away Meg Giry, right now!" Christine hissed, venomously. "Maybe that would teach you not to go through other people's things!"_

 _The laughter ceased abruptly and the screaming began. The door burst open and twelve ballet rats scrambled out of the room, shrieking about devilry and witchcraft. Erik watched as Christine stepped through the door and…_

 _"Erik?"_

Erik was drawn back to the present by his wife's voice. He had been lost in memories of his time before Christine had even seen him. "Yes Angel mine?"

"Trouble in Paradise," she nodded in the direction of a pale, stunned looking Sarah, and an irate Jareth stalking away from her. "Methinks some damage control is in order."

Erik nodded and reluctantly parted from his wife's side for the first time since the ball began.

* * *

Sarah was not alone for long. Mere seconds after Jareth had left her the High King had materialised, quite literally, in the chair that his stepson had vacated.

"Dare I ask what happened?" Erik asked, not unkindly.

"I asked him if he was ready to run the Labyrinth, and…" Sarah trailed off before admitting to what had upset Jareth. "Asked him if he was frightened,"

"Erik was afraid of that,"

Sarah blinked, still puzzled by the High King's unusual use of his own name. "What do you mean?"

"You know his heritage I take it?" Erik asked, and when Sarah nodded he explained. "His father was the best friend that Eri… excuse me, _I_ ever had, almost my brother, and when just before he ascended to the throne I asked him the very same questions. He physically attacked me."

"What?" Sarah stared at the black haired Fae in shock.

"Aye," Erik nodded, a rueful smile curling his thin lips. "I cannot speak for previous generations, but Jareth is much like his sire in the respect that he lashes out when provoked- even when that provocation is merely perceived."

"When I ran the Labyrinth I told him I thought it was a 'piece of cake'… it means easy," Sarah explained, seeing the look of confusion that settled on Erik's face at her use of the colloquialism. "And he took two hours off my time limit."

"And that would be his pride," the High King nodded. "I sense you must be a proud woman Sarah, you and my son are will make a formidable pair if you succeed in breaking the curse."

"Thank you," Sarah smiled, though she noted the King's use of the word 'if' rather than 'when'. "Would it be rude of me, Your Majesty, if I went up to my rooms now?" she asked. "I'm exhausted."

"Erik," Erik insisted. "And of course, you must only do as much as your condition allows. Do you require an escort?"

"If it isn't too much trouble," Sarah returned, smiling her thanks.

"Of course not, Cherie," Erik demurred and clicked his fingers.

A dark skinned man with a head of tight black curls, barely out of childhood- appeared almost out of thin air. "Your Majesty?"

"Reeza, will you see the Lady Sarah up to her rooms, she is fatigued."

The man, Reeza, bowed. "Certainly, Sire."

"Reeza here is my valet, Sarah; you will be in safe hands with him, Cherie."

Sarah smiled her thanks and allowed Reeza to escort her from the throne room.

* * *

"Really, Jareth, it sounds like she was only trying to be friendly,"

Jareth had to resist the urge to groan at his mother's scolding. When he had seen his father leave her at the edge of the dance floor, for now apparent reason, the Goblin Prince had taken the opportunity to ask her to dance. She had asked him about Sarah and he had, of course related what had transpired between them. Now he was suffering for it.

"… you didn't need to bite the poor girl's head off." His mother was saying. "And to call her 'nobody', that was rude."

"Yes maman," he sighed. "Sorry maman,"

"It isn't me you ought to be apologising to," Maman nodded over his shoulder and Jareth turned in time to see Sarah on Reeza's arm, heading towards the door. Jareth cringed internally; he'd never intended to chase her off. "And if I were you, mon Cher, I would do it before you run the Labyrinth."

Jareth bowed his head. "Oui Maman,"

"Tres bon," she nodded and smiled, leaving the topic behind them for the time being. "Now, I believe we were dancing."

"Indeed we were," Jareth grinned and swept his mother into the merry reel that had just begun.

* * *

Unfortunately it seemed that Sarah had over done things after leaving the labyrinth with Christine. On arriving back at her chamber with Reeza, Sarah had Lylabeth help her out of her dress and crashed out on the bed before she could change into her nightgown. She slept, heavy and dreamless until well into the next afternoon.

When she woke from that sleep her head pounded and she was numb all the way down one side of her body; a weak grown escaped her half numbed lips as she attempted to burrow deeper into her pillows to escape the light which was burning her eyes. Lylabeth, who had been waiting for her to wake, summoned Healer Gatsby.

The spindly old healer declared that she was suffering from a migraine. "Migraines of this type are common in youths whose magic is on the verge of manifesting for the first time." He told Sarah when she questioned him on his diagnosis. "Congratulations Lady Champion, you are well on the road to becoming one of us, forever."

Sarah groaned in response, burying her face in the pillows, never sure, even years later, whether that reaction was to the pain she was in or the healer's quip.

* * *

The morning of Jareth's run through the Labyrinth looked set to be dawn bright, fresh and breezy. Dawn had yet to break and Jareth had been awake for hours. His insides were tied up in knots; he was trying to spin a crystal in an attempt to centre himself. A knock at his bedchamber door startled him and the glass orb fell to the floor and disintegrated. Jareth bit out a soft curse and went to answer the door.

"S-Sarah?" he blinked, shocked at the sight of the beautiful, smiling brunette, leaning on her crutches outside his door. "That is, good morning,"

"Hello," she smiled. "I was hoping you'd be awake, I… I was wondering if you might like to take a walk, Healer Gatsby told me that I should get take things easy for a few days, but he said a short walk in the garden would be fine."

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" he asked, hopefully. "Because I really am sorry for what I said to you and…"

Sarah silenced him with finger placed over his lips. "Forgiven for what?"

Her smile told him that she had indeed forgiven him, that as far as she was concerned what was past was past and Jareth felt that he could kiss her for it. In all honesty it was an excuse he would gladly take, if not for the curse.

"Well then," he said, with an exaggerated and courtly bow. "If milady wants a turn around the gardens, then that is what milady shall have."

"Will there be a ball after your coronation, like the one that your mother had?" Sarah asked, as they walked through the orchard. Their walk had been silent for the most part, a comfortable, happy sort in which no words were needed, now her voice almost surprised him.

"Yes," Jareth nodded. "Any excuse for a celebration and we noble Fae will take it. Why do you ask?"

Her eyes, as her gaze met his, fairly glowed in the half light of the breaking dawn. "Because you promised me I'd experience a ball that I enjoyed and I'm going to hold you to that, even when you're goblin king."

Again her forwardness surprised him. Jareth threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, you precious thing, the gods broke the mould when they made you didn't they?"

"I like to think so," Sarah told him with a coy little smile, but Jareth was rewarded by the becoming blush which had settled over her cheeks.

"Sarah," he purred taking a step towards her. The blush deepened, as her eyes, now darkened to a smouldering emerald darted to his mouth and her tongue danced over her lips, making them look more kissable than ever before. All he need do was lean in and capture her lips.

And then his mouth opened quite before he knew what was happening and he heard himself say: "I wish the Goblins would come and take you away, right now."

* * *

Sarah barely had time to shoot Jareth a look of betrayal as he wished her away before she was seized by many groping hands which belonged to many invisible, chittering, giggling creatures and found herself deposited in a cushioned pit in a room which she recognized as the throne room of the castle beyond the goblin city.

"Well," said Christine's voice, which sounded as though she were trying not to laugh. "I can't pretend that this isn't ironic."

Sarah looked up to find the High Queen dressed in the Goblin Queen's armour for what would be the last time. Black leather trousers which looked like they had been _painted_ onto her legs were tucked into thigh high lace up boots with absolutely killer heels and a corseted, sleeveless tunic made of some glimmering midnight blue material clung to her curves and black, leathery opera gloves rose up her, otherwise bare, arms leaving less than an inch of skin exposed and the distressed, high collared cloak which Jareth had worn to his mother's coronation hung from her shoulders. The crescent shaped pendant glinted at her breast and her blonde curls were teased into a wild blonde mane which tumbled down her back.

"What's happening?" Sarah asked. "Why did…?"

"Later, Cherie," the Goblin Queen demurred. "Duty calls,"

And with that, she vanished.

* * *

A shell shocked Jareth stood staring at the spot from which Sarah had vanished. He had wished her away; he hadn't known he was able to do such a thing, as close as he was to the Goblin Throne.

"Alright Maman!" he called, falling into the role of challenger, if he was to run the Labyrinth for Sarah as well as for his crown he may as well do it properly. "Where is she?"

"You know very well where she is," his mother drawled, every inch the Goblin Queen. "She is there, in my castle if you wish to look for her."

Jareth barely felt the magic that his mother used to transport them to the hill at the outside edge of the labyrinth, he knew the spell she had used- and only by knowing about it could you detect its use.

"I'll run for her." He vowed, and then, before he could stop himself added. "It doesn't look that far."

What was happening? Was this part of the curse that he was forced to recite lines from the book before he took his mother's place?

Her lips twitched. "It's further than you think, and time is short." Whether she was playing her part or as subject to this new twist of the curse as he was his mother's voice echoed in the air as she faded away to nothing. "You have thirteen hours to solve the labyrinth or the lovely Lady Sarah becomes one of us, forever. Such a pity…"

Pushing aside the pleasant notion of Sarah being one of them forever, and all of the delightful mental images it conjured-there would be time for those later- Jareth set his eyes on the castle at the centre of the labyrinth, his birth place and birth right, and set off to claim his destiny.

* * *

Sarah was sitting on the edge of the pit when Christine returned to the throne room. She flicked her wrist and her armour transformed into a blue day dress, and her hair was piled up on her head in a high bun.

"Come Sarah," she said, helping the younger woman to rise and returned her crutches to her- the goblins had left them behind when they had taken her away at Jareth's behest. "Jareth is has commenced his run and I owe you an explanation, shall we retire to somewhere a little more/ comfortable?"

Sarah nodded and followed her predecessor out of the throne room.

* * *

Jareth had entered the Labyrinth with no trouble and had located an opening out of the outer corridor before too long and paused, glancing left to the left. On a normal day taking a left here would take him directly to the castle but something told him that that path would be blocked to him now- as a runner he was without his magic until he reached the castle. He turned to the right and jogged off towards the first challenge that the Labyrinth had in store for him.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Oh bugger," Jareth breathed as the sound of high pitched, very female, giggling reached his ears. "Fairies,"

~v~

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: The symptoms I outlined for Sarah's migraine are those of a genuine condition called**_ ** _hemiplegic migraine- though the one I gave her was a very severe example of the kind. Fortunately they are very rarely that bad..._**

 _ **Next time: Jareth's run and we get some details on Christine's too.**_

 _ **Until then, please leave a contribution in the little box :)**_


	11. 10: Time and Time and Time Again

_**Hello everyone,**_

 _ **I'm very sorry that I took so long to get this out to you. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to follow and or favourite this story since my last update.**_

 _ **Special thanks to La'ienth, Gotta Dance 88, ariella21, BasiaM82, A Pirate By Any Other Name, windsongspringheart, kapkeyknudols, Enchanted Peach Dreams, pgoodrichdogs, VioletzDreamz, SarahlousieDodge, BT, Guest and Anonymous, Guest 2, and Me (chapter 3, 4, 9) for their lovely reviews.**_

 _ **BT: Thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying this and, if you're still reading this I hope you enjoy what I have up my sleeve for this story.**_

 _ **Guest: Thank you for your suggestion m'dear**_

 _ **Anonymous: Thank you, I hope, if you're still reading, that Christine's explanation of the situation Sarah has found herself in will satisfy you. I'm so glad you like the Phantom of the crossover. As for apologising for the F-bomb, I wished to cover my bases, as I received a comment from an upset reviewer. Once again m'dear thank you for your kind words and I hope you enjoy what is to come :)**_

 _ **Guest (2): Thank you, I hope you will enjoy it when it does come, and I'll try not to keep you waiting too long. Thank you once again and I am just about to publish the first chapter.**_

 _ **Me: Yes I am drawing from Phantom of the Opera, I adore Phantom in almost all of its forms. Thank you, is this soon enough for you m'dear :)**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Ten: Time and Time and Time Again_**

 _There was a man in the dormitory._

 _He was the oddest looking fellow that Christine had ever seen, even at the cirque that she had been to once before Papa died. He had a mane of wild dark hair which fell past his shoulders, and dressed in a way which reminded Christine of the black knight from_ Le Morte d'Arthur _which she had read as a girl. The man wasn't handsome but he was striking._

 _Christine swallowed._

 _"W-who are you, monsieur?" she asked, voice wavering slightly._

 _The man smirked. "Do you not know?" His voice wasn't unkind and the timbre of it reminded her oddly of her Angel's. "You did call upon my services."_

 _Christine's eyes widened. "Y-you… no, that cannot be, you cannot be the Goblin King?"_

 _The man bowed. "Jareth,"_

 _Christine had the strangest urge to curtsey, but she resisted, instead she asked. "What have you done with Meg?"_

 _"Nothing more than you have asked, Christine," Her name was spoken like a caress, only once before had she heard her name sound like that, then a teasing: "Why? Do you think I should?"_

* * *

Jareth despised fairies. He had done since his early childhood when a game of rolling down a hill had ended in tears after he had landed in a nest of the buggers. Looking at them now made Jareth's skin crawl and he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to scratch at imaginary bites. As soon as he was king he would be hiring someone to rid his kingdom of the blood things.

Skin still crawling, Jareth shrugged off his jacket- glad that he had chosen the dragon hide- and put it over his head and bolted past the nest of giggling vermin.

* * *

Meanwhile up at the castle, Christine and Sarah sat in a solar which, even now, the latter was surprised to find in the castle beyond the Goblin City.

"What is it?" Sarah asked, as the queen looked into the crystal in her fingers her brow furrowed slightly in concern. In answer Christine brought the orb around so Sarah could see.

"What is he hiding from?" Sarah asked, as Jareth hid his head under the beautiful jacket he had been wearing.

"Fairies," was the reply. "Fortunately this phobia of his is under control now, for the most part."

"I don't like them either," Sarah said, looking down at her finger which still bore the scars left behind from her first encounter with a fairy. _Phobia_ Christine had said, and while Sarah itched to ask about that, she refrained though, thinking that it might be better to wait for Jareth to reveal the fact himself- there'd be time for that later. "So, uh, you still haven't told me why Jareth wished me away."

"Ah _oui,_ of course," The older woman banished the crystal and gave a rueful chuckle. "No mortal, as I'm sure you know; may enter the Labyrinth without wishing someone away, or being wished away. The curse requires that Jareth challenge the Labyrinth as a true runner, therefore he had to wish someone away. Every goblin king must do this; it's an interesting magical clause, one which Jareth was not allowed to know before hand, or else the test would be biased."

Sarah frowned. "I don't understand."

At this point Christine put one finger over her lips as a goblin entered the solar wheeling a trolley laden with tea and cakes and as he, for male the goblin was, set about setting the refreshments on the table between the two ladies. Then he bowed and took the trolley back the way he came.

"I'm sorry about that," Christine smiled once the goblin was gone. "Jones is a strange little goblin, he is frightened of speech, and I have never been able to understand why, or ascertain a way to relieve him of this fear."

"Oh, the poor thing," said Sarah softly, shaking her head. She had little experience of Goblins yet, but she had been under the impression that they were a noisy race.

"Indeed," Christine nodded. "But we were speaking of your present situation, were we not?"

Sarah nodded.

"Well, I must confess that it is my fault that you are here," she offered Sarah an apologetic smile. "You see, I had to put the words into his mouth, though if I had known that he was with _you_ at that point I might have held off until you were out of the firing line. Jareth had no idea that it was coming I assure you."

"I believe you," Sarah said and found that she did. Jareth _had_ looked as surprised as she'd felt in the moment between his wish and the goblins answering it.

* * *

 _The Labyrinth was real._

 _Christine could hardly believe that she wasn't dreaming even as she wandered through a twisting turning passageway looking for a way out of it. It was the ache in her feet that told her that this glittering fairyland was indeed real for no dream had ever raised painful blisters on a person's feet. Her shoes, which were barely more substantial than ballet slippers, were not designed for traipsing through mythical landscapes. She lifted one foot and flexed it, rubbing at the sore patches, then repeated the process with the other._

 _Christine wished that the Angel was with her. He had promised her that he would never leave her when their voice lessons began, but she had been unable to sense his presence since she had first laid eyes on the Goblin King. She amused herself by wondering how he would react to learning of her adventures when she returned._

 _"Don't be silly Christine," she chided herself. "You know you cannot tell him abou…"_

 _At this moment the ground beneath her feet gave way and she tumbled down, down, down into a gaping black abyss._

* * *

Jareth felt like he was making good time. He had passed about an hour if the position of the sun was any indication- but who knew as the Labyrinth was a place of illusion, and as he was its challenger he was as susceptible to its tricks as any mortal runner. Still, he had reached the hedge maze and somewhere about he would find the old _wise_ man and his equally addled sentient hat.

And, speak of the devil, there was the very chap moving to sit in his great stone chair.

"Hello Wiseman," he greeted the old man. "Hat."

"Prince Jareth?" the Wiseman blinked at him. "Does your mother require…"

"No you eediot," the hat put in. "Da Prince is running da labyrinth."

"Are you really?" the old man asked. "Well then Your Highness, am I to assume that you come to me for a point in the right direction, hmm?"

"No thank y…" Jareth began; certain that he knew the way from here, but the Wiseman cut him off.

"Quite often young man, you might think you aren't getting anywhere when in fact…"

"We are!" the hat put in and received a glare from his wearer.

"We _are_ ," the Wiseman finished gruffly. "And sometimes it is better to reach out and take that which we want despite the shadows gathering in the distant future."

"What?" Jareth demanded. This was the first taste of the old man's apparent wisdom that Jareth had ever got, despite spending half of his life in this place. "Wiseman, please…"

But the old man had fallen asleep.

"And I theenk that's' your lot," the hat remarked and the arm that the pair shared rose up, clutching the box. "Please, leave a…"

Jareth dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out a silver coin which he dropped into the contribution box before striding away in the direction of the castle.

* * *

 _Christine landed in a heap and a cloud of dust. It was dark wherever she was and she could hear something moving in the shadows. She could see it-_ them _for there were many of them, whatever they were- all around her. It was only when one of the somethings scuttled across her foot that Christine realized what they were._

Spiders.

 _There must be thousands of the damned things._

 _Christine kicked out reflexively in disgust. She_ hated _spiders, disgusting little creatures. She sent the spider flying across the dark space and she heard something shatter like glass._

 _Had it been the spider?_

 _The thought that the spiders might be as fragile as glasswork gave her courage. If they dared to touch her, then she could break them as she had the first. Buoyed by this discovery, Christine began to pick her way through the hoard of the awful eight-legged abominations, shrieking and kicking out at the slightest flash of movement or brush of long glass leg. When she reached the opposite wall she was rewarded with the appearance of a doorway which had seemingly been hidden in plain sight._

 _Well, that charming little worm had said that the labyrinth was full of openings. She smiled and hurried through and followed it up to ground level once more._

* * *

 _It was very rare that he had to look after an adult and Jareth had quickly come to the decision that he preferred it when the wished away was rather more… portable. The smaller they were, the easier to control they tended to be. Marguerite Giry, the woman whom Christine had wished away to him, had not stopped screaming since she had entered his kingdom… well, not until he had resorted to putting her to sleep and banishing her to one of the seldom used guest chambers._

 _Jareth had returned to his throne and had just summoned a crystal to look in on his Champion's progress when…_

 _"_ Jareth! _"_

 _Jareth almost leapt out of his skin at the sound of his name in a voice he had long since come to believe that he would never hear again._

 _"Erik?" he gasped. No, it couldn't possibly be… Erik had faded some fifty years ago._

 _"_ Oh damn it all, _" the voice came again. "_ I wish that the Goblin King would appear before me, right now. _"_

 _Jareth leapt to his feet and allowed the wish to carry him into the wisher's presence. He was Aboveground, in Paris. He was in a subterranean chamber, on the banks of a lake and facing an impossible form- identifiable even with the ridiculous black mask stretched across his face._

 _"The world must truly be smaller than I believed," Jareth quipped. "My Lady Champion, and my dearest friend in the same city. You are a sight for sore eyes Erik."_

 _"Where is she?" Erik demanded, without preamble._

 _"Who Erik?" Jareth asked. "Mlle Marguerite, or Lady Christine?"_

 _"_ Christine _," was the answer, his tone bordering on desperation. "Please Jareth, tell me she is alright."_

 _Jareth blinked. "Of course she's alright my friend- you know as well as I that pain only comes to those who deserve it."_

 _"Where is she?" he demanded again, now sounding every inch the High King he was. "Show her to me, quickly!"_

 _"As you wish, Your Majesty," the Goblin King bowed, dispensing with the informality of their long friendship for the moment. He produced a crystal and bid it show them Christine. Erik took one look at the maiden and cried out in anguish._

 _"Get her out of there Jareth!" he commanded. "Christine fears spiders, and know that if one of those glasswork monstrosities bites her you will not have to wait for the curse to claim you."_

 _Stunned, Jareth lifted his gaze to stare at his companion, puzzled by the distress in the other man's voice and in every line of his body. "But they are harmless, Erik, you know that."_

 _"To you and I maybe," Erik retorted. "Even with the state I am in right now- but to Christine, a fragile mortal… Erik dreads to think…"_

'Oh gods,' _Jareth thought. This explained why Erik had been gone for so long- Jareth could barely feel his friend's magic, and the fact that he had just referred to himself in the third person: he had been subject to the worst form of torture imaginable to Fae kind. His body and magic would recover- aside from the point at which the torture was implemented- but his mind…_

 _Erik would never be the same man that Jareth once knew._

 _"Of course," Jareth nodded and waved a hand over the crystal and allowed a small archway to form in the otherwise smooth cave wall, and promptly sealed it behind her once Christine had passed through._

* * *

As a child Jareth had believed that Rodents of Unusual Size were extinct- but it was rather hard to maintain that belief after narrowly escaping having three of the bloody things ripping chunks out of your flesh. His boots would need to be burned too as the only way he had managed to escape the rats had been to run through the Bog of Eternal Stench; although he would thank every god and goddess he had ever heard of until the day he breathed his last that dragon-hide did not let anything pass through from the outside in.

A good thing too or else Sarah would not touch him with a ten foot pole.

Breathing hard, Jareth leaned against one of the trees which now surrounded him. Yes time was short- judging by the sun he had five hours left- but damn he was tired. He had long known that the Labyrinth would try him, but…

But this grove was just so pleasant, and flowers made the air smell so sweet. He would go on in a few moments, but…

Jareth yawned.

Sarah was in no danger for the time being. He would just rest his eyes a few moments. He rather felt he had earned it, what with the… the…

The Goblin Prince slid to the floor and succumbed to the perfume of the poppies which surrounded him on all sides.

~v~

* * *

 _ **Next Time: Jareth's run through the Labyrinth continues and Sarah gets a little private revenge on her once and future adversary.**_

 ** _Note for Harry Potter and crossover story fans; I am about to post a pseudo sequel, a rewritten version of an old story called 'It's a Kind of Magic.'- look out for 'Rise From the Ashes,' and don't worry there won't be any major spoilers ;)._**

 ** _Until next time my friends- please leave a contribution in the little box._**


	12. 11: King's Run

_**Hi everyone.**_

 _ **Thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to follow and/or favourite this story since my last update :)**_

 _ **Thank you to: Anonymous, Me, Nanenna, Lydsabella, SarahlouiseDodge, Enchanted Peach Dreams, Guest, BT, windsongspringheart, VioletzDreamz, Aurlia, zetsumi and Cassandre Potter (who was kind enough to correct Sarah's French in Chapter 6) for their lovely reviews**_

 _ **Anonymous: Thank you so much, hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.**_

 _ **Me: Haha, thank you m'dear you flatter me, I am deeply honoured that you like my story enough to do that :)**_

 _ **Guest: Haha, calm down m'dear, I promise he won't be out of it for TOO long.**_

 _ **BT: Thank you, glad you're still with me :). It's ok I completely understand, although I thought it completely in character for Erik to interfere on Christine's behalf, particularly the incarnation of him that I went with in this story, although who's to say that Jareth (Sr.) actually DID anything?**_ _ **I'm glad you like Jones, he will be turning up again at least once before I'm done with this story.**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter Eleven: King's Run_**

 _Christine stared in horror at the sea of grey hillocks which spread between her and the Goblin King's castle. She had been so relieved when she had finally made it out of that awful swamp, even if she had been forced to discard her dress when she realized that some of the fetid water had soaked the hem. A small part of her remembered to be embarrassed by her current state of undress, but Meg's safety was more important than her own modesty._

 _"Bare up little Lottie," she whispered, as an old friend had as they parted for the last time. "Think of Meg."_

 _Squaring her shoulders, the young chorus girl set off towards the castle._

 _They weren't hillocks._

 _They were enormous piles of miscellany which Christine was forced to half wade through and half clamber over. She had to concentrate on where she was putting her feet to avoid sinking or slipping into the discarded items that she failed to notice that some of the smallest piles of things until…_

 _"Hey!" Christine recoiled as the drum which she had placed her hand on less than a moment before reared up and revealed itself to be a diminutive, wizened individual more than half buried beneath an assortment of odds and ends. "These are mine!"_

 _Christine scowled as a stab of indignation ran through her at the little person's implication. "I wasn't going to take anything. I'm trying to get to the castle."_

 _The person, whom Christine decided must be a man, cocked his head. "Now why would ya want to go to the castle? Nothin' interestin' to be found up there,"_

 _She opened her mouth to tell him why she had been heading for the castle, then frowned. Why was she so intent on reaching it? There had been a reason, of that she was certain, but for the life of her Christine could not remember what that reason was._

 _If it were truly that important, the reason would return to her, wouldn't it?_

 _"Well little lady," the man continued, shrewdly. "If it is so important that you head on up there, you can't be seen dressed like that."_

 _Christine looked down at herself, and realised that he was right. She blushed. "Do you know where I can find a dress?"_

 _"Follow me," said the man. "I'm sure we can find you something suitable."_

* * *

There were five hours left of Jareth's run through the Labyrinth. Erik's worry had been growing for the previous eight hours: not for his son, but for Christine. His greatest fear; since she had returned to him following the death of her little sailor boy; was losing her. He had suffered right along with her as she carried and birthed Jareth, and again, years later, with Caelenore; but both times he had known that she would survive thanks to the curse.

Now though…

Christine's part of the curse was coming to an end.

After today she would no longer be Goblin Queen.

If the curse claimed her as it had sweet Queen Martha and all of her predecessors…

Hell, Erik doubted he would be able to endure it.

* * *

The gentle summer breeze plucked at his thin linen suit as he handed the invitation in his hand over to the footman and passed through the gates. He didn't quite remember when he had been invited to a garden party, but far be it from the young prince to turn down such an invitation.

A string quartet played merrily somewhere out of sight and masked dancers performed a quadrille on the dance floor. In a fit of uncharacteristic self-consciousness he raised a hand to his face and found a mask there. His hands though, were bare.

He frowned.

"You're here," a female voice brought him back to the present and he looked up. A lady in a soft pink dress with matching white mask and gloves stood before him; dark hair fell in soft curls fell around her shoulders, pulled away from her face by a white ribbon.

"I'm here," he nodded, trying not to drown in the deep green eyes which fairly glowed behind her mask. "Forgive me Lady, but you appear to have me at an advantage."

The woman's lips curled. "Doesn't that make a change?"

He blinked. "I…"

Before he could finish though, his companion offered her hand. "The dance is changing, will you join me?"

The dance which replaced the quadrille was merry and waltz-like, Jareth relished in the informality as he guided the lady around the dance floor. He raised their joined hands to spin her and caught her by the waist.

"This is almost like the first time we danced." His partner remarked as they returned to the classic hold position.

Jareth blinked. "We have done this before?"

The green eyes sparkled. "Of course we have- it isn't my fault you don't remember, I'm told that Ozian poppies will do that."

"Ozian poppies?" he echoed, a wash of realization spread through him. "This is a dream isn't it?"

"Ding-ding-ding," was her cryptic response. "We have a winner."

The music swelled and Jareth pulled her close, driven by an overwhelming desire to kiss the green eyed temptress, not caring that he could not remember seeing her face. His partner shifted in his grasp and his lips brushed the white silk of her mask.

"Ah, ah, not in public, Your Highness." She chided teasingly. "Hardly proper,"

"There is no such thing as propriety in dreams,"

She laughed. "Touché, but wouldn't you rather kiss the real me? I've been waiting all day for you to reach me, you know."

"Sarah?"

"Jareth," She returned. "Most girls dream of dancing with a prince- I find I'd rather dance with a king."

"Then how do I get out of here?"

Sarah's brow quirked beneath the silk of her mask. "You tell me, this is your dream after all."

The dance came to an end and Jareth's eyes fell upon an archway which he was certain hadn't been present in that section of hedgerow previously.

"Sarah?"

"Run, sweet prince," she nodded. "And remember that sometimes forward is also the way back,"

"You're looking well, Wise Man," Jareth teased, although he wasn't sure if Sarah would understand the joke. Then, not without some reluctance, he tore himself away from Sarah and he hurried for towards the archway.

As he passed through the arch the world fell away and the heady scent of poppies was all he knew…

Jareth's eyes flew open and he leapt to his feet, clamping his hand over his mouth and nose he hurried through the drugged flowers, unwilling to stop holding his breath until he had cleared the treeline on the opposite side of the grove.

* * *

 _It was hard to believe that an almost perfect replica of her fine Sunday frock had just been discarded on a pile of abandoned things. It fit her perfectly, and buttoned up the front, unlike her own back buttoned frock._

 _Hadn't she wished for a frock which she could button herself, to speed her along to chapel before mass each week?_

 _And the dress was just the start._

 _As the little man led her through the piles, Christine began to pick out treasures which she could not simply leave behind. Ribbons, shoes, a ragdoll, she even found a fine cherry wood pipe just like the one papa had smoked. It wasn't long before she had found a violin just like his too._

 _Her arms were soon full and with the man's help she had her new treasures arranged on her back and shoulders._

 _Something red caught her eye._

 _"My red scarf!" she beamed, pulling the scarlet strip from a pile of shoes and hats. She began to arrange it around her neck when she stumbled over something._

 _A pair of soft white ballet slippers; Christine frowned, trying to remember where she had seen a pair of slippers like this before._

 _"Why," she chuckled, slapping her forehead. "These are just like the pair that Meg gave me for my last birthd… Oh merde, Meg!"_

That _was why she was heading for the castle at the centre of the labyrinth. She had to save Meg. How could she even think of these useless things when poor dear Meg was trapped in the clutches of the Goblin King?_

 _Christine tore the scarf from around her neck, and as she did so the items she had picked up began to fall to the floor- the spell broken. She ran; scrambling over the piles of refuse to reach the wall separating the piles of scrap from the castle._

* * *

The north gate of the Goblin City was smaller than the main one to the south and thankfully Jareth had managed to avoid the junk yard as so few runners managed to do. He had, however, been forced to pick his way through a salt quarry; careful to avoid making contact with the toxic mineral. Unfortunately he hadn't been entirely successful, as the burning pain in his left hand would indicate.

Now he just had to distract the two guards-goblins so he could access the city.

* * *

"Ten hours and seventeen minutes," Christine whispered as she looked up at the thirteen hour clock as her son passed through the gates to the goblin city in the crystal in her hand; that had to be some sort of record for a King's Run. She rose, unable to break the rules of the game even this last time. "The runner has breached the city walls! Send out the guard, _stop_ him!"

When the throne room was cleared of goblins Christine stretched hurried up to the Sarah's guest chamber, where she had been sleeping since she entered Jareth's dream. Christine was loath to wake the poor girl; these first months of the change were the hardest after on a body after all; but Sarah had to be present in the Escher Room when Jareth reached it.

It was in the rules.

 _Tired and frightened by the unexpected ambush, Christine Daae slammed the doors of the castle shut behind her and spent a good ten seconds leaning against the huge oak boards, trying to catch her breath before moving to confront the Goblin King._

 _Finally, she pushed herself upright again and hurried through the archway which was the only opening she could see. The archway turned out to lead to the throne room- a filthy chamber, empty but for the barrels, and frightfully uncomfortable looking round, stone throne._

 _There was a small staircase leading up towards another stone archway and Christine followed it, knowing in her heart that she would find the Goblin King on the other side of that archway._

* * *

Sarah's head swam as she followed Christine into the Escher room; she wasn't sure if the headache which now burned around her eyes was due to the overwhelming rush of memories from her previous visit to this room of crazy staircases, or if it was down to the change. She decided that it was most likely a little of both.

"Would that I could avoid this," Christine said apologetically. "Disturbing your sleep during your change is the last thing that I would choose to do,"

"I know," Sarah nodded, wishing the out-going Goblin Queen would _stop_ apologizing for her for this. "It's fine, honestly, I can sleep later."

A pulse of magic swept through the room at this point, blowing the two women's hair, skirts and sleeves in its wake. Christine clicked her fingers and her day dress became a sheer dark ruby gown overlaid with feathery layers of obsidian tulle.

"Run Cherie," she advised. "This is the point of no return."

"He's here?"

Wild blonde curls bobbed with the nod of confirmation. "He's here,"

Ignoring the throbbing of her thigh muscles, Sarah turned away from Jareth's mother, and hurried up the nearest flight of stairs.

~v~

* * *

 _ **Next time: Jareth becomes Goblin King and Caelie meets an oddly familiar stranger.**_


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